


Complete

by in_need_of_some_sanity



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Procedures, Restraints, Slow Burn, Swearing, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_need_of_some_sanity/pseuds/in_need_of_some_sanity
Summary: In Mike's experience being an omega, a male omega nonetheless, is nothing to be desired. On the contrary. So from an early age on he hides what he is, no matter the costs. Until one day he quite literally is swept off his feet by an alpha and his whole life changes, whether he likes it or not.
Relationships: Dana "Scottie" Scott & Harvey Specter, Mike Ross/ Trevor Evans (mentioned), Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Comments: 73
Kudos: 236





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt for a story set in the ABO-verse. In the first chapter I just explain a little bit more about my story since it is not your straightforward, regular story you read from beginning to end. You can if you want to, but there are other ways as well.  
> I hope you enjoy this little brainchild of mine and please feel free to leave me a comment.

Dear Reader,

before you follow me down into this rabbit hole you need to make a decision on how you want to experience this story because there are three different ways.

This story is told in the first person, alternating between Mike’s and Harvey’s point of view. It covers the same timeline for both of them, with a few retrospectives as the exception to this rule. The chapters alternate between Mike and Harvey and I will always post two chapters; one from Mike’s viewpoint, and one from Harvey’s, but covering roughly the same time. Although there will be some repetitions the chapters will differ because of the different feelings, experiences and different perceptions of things and, of course, because there are times when these two are not together.

So, there are three different ways to experience this little brainchild of mine and in a way, this is three slightly different stories wrapped into one.

  1. You can read all the chapters in a row, alternating between Harvey and Mike.
  2. You can only read Mike’s story, which is told in the chapters with the even numbers.
  3. You can only read Harvey’s story, which is told in the chapters with the odd numbers.



I’m always very eager for any kind of feedback from my readers and I would really like to know how you read this story or maybe, if you’ve read it more than once but in a different order, if this has changed your experience somehow.

I wrote this story alternating between Mike and Harvey, but only so I can minimize any blunders or plot holes.

This is my first story in the ABO-verse and there’s a lot, especially regarding the rules of alphas / omegas, I’ve read in and adopted from other stories. But sometimes I have made my own rules, depending on what suited me best.

I also realize that, as in most ABO-stories, there is a slight undertone of dub-con or non-con at times and that gave me some serious pause since this is skirting the edge for me and I realize that some people will find it troubling, to say the least.

I’ve tried to keep the tone light and there’s nothing really bad happening but especially Mike’s internal struggle can be disconcerting and yes, sometimes I cried a little during writing. So, this isn’t all sunshine and roses.

It’s a story about a society where equality doesn’t exist. Where some people have to fight against prejudice just because of their biology. Where some people struggle with their own body up to a point where they are willing to harm themselves just to hide or suppress what they are.

If you think about it, it doesn’t sound so different from our world, though depending a little where you live.

But this is also a story about finding happiness. About learning to accept yourself as the person you are with everything that entails and also about finding that acceptance in others. It’s a story about growing trust and finding happiness. And this story has a happy ending although the ride might be a little bumpy at times.

So, without further ado, let me tell you the story of Mike and Harvey; omega and alpha and how they found each other.


	2. Mike's Story

My stomach rumbles while I pedal as fast as I can through the streets of Manhattan on my trusty old bike. When I say _my bike_ I mean that I’ve had it in my possession for such a long time that it is now actually mine, even if it hasn’t started out that way in the first place. You know what they say: possession is 9/10 of the law. And anyway, I’m pretty sure that the previous owner has abandoned it since he hadn’t even bothered to lock it, so no harm done.

I haven’t eaten since yesterday and now it is past lunchtime. Instead of food I’ve filled my belly with water, so at least I’m well hydrated. In my head I calculate if I have enough money to buy some food after I have paid Trevor his monthly due. Yeah, I should have enough to at least buy a hotdog at a street cart somewhere. I have a few bucks to spare. But first I need to make this delivery. It’s at a fancy art gallery. Maybe I’ll be lucky and get a good tip. Then dinner would be sorted as well.

I realize that I probably should have introduced myself by now, although why anybody would be interested in me is way beyond my understanding. Well, except maybe for one thing. But first things first.

My name is Mike Ross and I’m a bike messenger in the greatest city of the world – New York aka the Big Apple or the City that never sleeps. See, at first glance I’m totally unremarkable. But if we ever have a chance to meet, then I’m most likely the smartest person you’ll ever encounter in your life. Not that you will notice it. 

I can hear you think that I’m full of shit. Because, if I were really as smart as I claim, why would I work as a bike messenger and not have enough money to buy proper food? Well, let me tell you why. Because, in my world, being smart doesn’t mean that you’re successful. Especially when your own biology screws your whole life over.

I have an eidetic memory. It means that I can remember everything I’ve ever read. And once I read something I understand it. My auditory memory is also really good and I have a few math-tricks up my sleeve as well. So yeah, with all these arrows in my quiver my life should be an endless adventure, filled with success and lots of money.

And if I’d been born as an alpha, it most likely would be. Even as a beta chances were pretty good that I would’ve been able to study law or medicine or something like that and get a good job that would put me somewhere in the upper middle classes.

But I’m an omega. A male omega. Yeah, just my luck. Nature screwed me over from the moment my alpha father dragged my omega mom into bed to hump her bones.

As you can probably gain from my tone of voice, I’m not exactly a big fan of my old man. That he died when I was eleven doesn’t help in the least, since he managed to get my mom killed along with him. It was a traffic accident that did it and as devastated I was by the death of my mom, as relieved I felt when it finally sank in that I wouldn’t have to see him ever again.

You probably don’t know it, but male omegas are pretty rare. Only one in ten omegas is male; about the same ratio as female alphas. Scientists theorize, that a long time ago all omegas were female and all alphas male. But somewhere along the line of evolution male omegas started to present themselves as well as female alphas. The ratio between those two has been pretty stable, as if nature tries to keep the balance. Now, a few millennia later, male omegas can even get pregnant, but only by a male alpha. Between a male omega and a female alpha it still happens the old-fashioned way.

Betas, who make up about 80 % of our society, are pretty much normal. They don’t have that overwhelming dominant urge of an alpha or the sex drive and submissiveness of an omega. In my mind, they’re the real winners in this genetic lottery.

Well, now that I’ve explained how this whole mess works, you’ll probably understand why my old man wasn’t exactly thrilled about having an omega son.

My father wasn’t a smart man but he was charismatic and very dominant, in appearance as well as in demeanor, a true blue collar alpha. He started out in the construction business of his uncle and due to ruthlessness and street smarts had made it to partner in a very short time and later, after his wedding, took the firm over entirely, buying my uncle out.

They hadn’t been big enough to play with the big boys like Trump or one of the mobsters, but their firm had put food on the tables of close to 200 families. As soon as he’d climbed to a certain rank within society, my father hired a matching service to find himself a suitable mate, my mom. They had been a good match, somewhere in the 80 % compatibility rate which is about the percentage most couples have, and due to my mom’s sweet temper and ability to overlook all his shortcomings, their marriage had been harmonic and successful.

Well, until the disappointment came along. I’m talking about myself, in case you were wondering.

You see, my father wanted a son, an alpha son to whom he could leave the firm. Someone who would follow into his footsteps and carry on the family name and tradition. And with his very high level of alpha hormones he was absolutely sure that he would spawn only alphas, or at least alpha sons. I don’t think that he would’ve taken that much offence in my genetic status if I’d been a girl. As soon as the doctor told my parents that my DNA test had verified me as omega, my father lost all interest in me and my mom. Sure, he was still polite to his wife and took care of her to keep up appearances, but they never had more kids. Maybe he didn’t want to take the risk of having another omega son. 

Omegas have but one main function in our society. To make their alphas happy, satisfy their need to dominate and protect, and keep them stable. So from the moment of my birth it was clear to my father, that one day I would be matched to an alpha who would then care for me, use me as their personal, brainless fuck-toy and, if my alpha were male, pump me full of pups at his convenience. It never occurred to my father, that I could have a brain and thus would be able to take care of myself.

Of course omegas can be smart, and if they are, their family, legal guardian or their alpha will sometimes nurture their abilities up to a certain point. But since omegas are deemed too emotional, too harmony-seeking and too naturally submissive, certain jobs are just out of the question for us. For example, even if someone would let me study medicine, I would most likely end up as a nurse or in a field of medicine without long hours, high pressure or lots of competitive fighting. Something caring and nurturing like dermatology or psychology. Something where my omega-side would come in handy. The really interesting and highly competitive fields like surgery would be closed to me.

Or if I would be allowed to study law, I would end up as a paralegal or court secretary or something like that. Maybe I could become a mediator but being a full-fledged lawyer in my own right would be impossible. That is the playing field for the alphas and maybe some high-strung betas.

And anyway, even being allowed to study holds some limitations for us omegas. If I were to study something mostly alphas did, like the aforementioned medicine or law, a personal counselor of the university would be assigned to me so that the alphas in my class wouldn’t take advantage of me, either physically or by trying to dominate me verbally or psychologically. They most likely wouldn’t be mean on purpose to the omegas though. They just can’t help themselves. Trying to dominate everyone they see as weaker is just in their nature.

And I also would be required to take frequent sessions with said counselor to make sure that I’m not overwhelmed by the stress of the subject or the competition, and in general my progress would be a lot slower than the alpha’s, since an omega is only allowed to take a certain amount of courses at a time so that we won’t get overwhelmed or stressed out.

And society not even sees it as discrimination. No, when they cooked this up in the department of education a couple of years ago, all of them high-ranking alphas of course, they congratulated themselves and patted their shoulders because they were so modern and omega equality had made such a huge step forward. They really thought they were doing us a favor. Fuck the lot of them!

No wonder that with these limitations in place, most omegas don’t even bother to apply for university any more, which only proves the point of these assholes.

Instead, omegas usually strive to look attractive, to gain homemaker skills like cooking or baking or decorating and of course, hone their sexual prowess, in order to be matched to a wealthy, good looking and rich alpha, who would then take care of them and treat them like a well-trained pet until the day they died.

So, maybe you can understand now why my father was disappointed when he learned about my genetic status. It was out of the question that I could become his successor and take over the family business. Every now and then he would show a little interest in me, but I think he was mostly embarrassed to have an omega son, so my mother was the one who essentially raised me.

In some way this was a stroke of luck, since my mom was, unlike my father, a very smart person although she hid it well from him. She was the one who taught me to read and write, long before I was put into that special omega school which focused more on singing, dancing and art instead of science and math and all the useful things one needs to fend for oneself.

My mom would teach me all the important and interesting things after I got home from school and if she saw my curiosity in some subject she couldn’t help me with, she would sweet-talk my father into getting a tutor for me. She probably told him it was about omega-stuff from school in which I was mediocre at best.

One of these tutors, a sociology student at Columbia University named Martin Miller, was an aspiring scientist who was writing a paper on omega abilities and their role in a developing society. His tutoring job had the added benefit for him that, while earning some money, he also could study his chosen subject up close. It was he who started with the tests.

At first, it was just basic stuff, especially developed for omegas and focusing more on soft abilities like emotional intelligence, music, drawing and so on. Needless to say, I wasn’t doing so well in those. I wasn’t exactly bad, more like average, nothing special at all. I think he gave me the tests to establish a base line of some sort.

But one day he gave me a test for alpha children of my age by mistake and I tested off the chart. When he saw the results, he thought it must be a fluke and he gave me more tests for alphas and I scored in every one of them in the 99%, up to the 10th grade, where he ran out of tests. That spiked his interest big time and for the first time in my life an alpha really looked at me as a person and showed honest curiosity. I was so grateful and of course I wanted to keep him interested in me, so I showed him my other little tricks. That for sure got his attention.

So everything was peachy. I was able to learn about the things that really interested me, and Martin made huge progress with his paper. But then something unexpected happened. He decided to talk to my father.

The downside of having an almost perfect auditory memory is, that I can still recall their conversation in minute detail. I hadn’t been invited to listen in of course, but I was just outside the door, with my ear pressed firmly against the smooth wood. After all, they were talking about me and maybe my father would be proud of me and my abilities despite me being only an omega.

Martin presented my father with my test-results and explained their relevance to him. A long stretch of silence followed this revelation and I remember that I was holding my breath until I felt a little light-headed.

Finally my father spoke. “What good will it do the boy to have these abilities? You’re only making his and my life more complicated by putting this nonsense into his head!” the voice of my father boomed.

“But Sir, Mike is the living prove that our society should recognize and nurture the abilities of omegas. That we don’t have to be ruled exclusively by our biology and that with the proper help, even an omega could become so much more than society now dictates. Mike has the ability to become anything he wants to be, if he just gets the right support. It would be such a waste to set him limitations just because of his genetic status.”

A loud noise sounded, like someone had crashed his fist against a solid surface and I flinched with surprise and dread. My father must be so angry right now. He hated it when someone tried to tell him what to do.

“You will not use my son as your test subject,” his deep voice roared angrily, and I bit my lip to stifle a whimper. When my father was in this mood, he always terrified me. “The sooner the boy learns to be content with what he is, the happier he will be in life. Biology has him predestined to be a pretty little plaything for his alpha’s pleasure and that’s what he will become. I will not allow you to use him as your little test subject so you can build your career on him. I want you to leave my house immediately. And don’t come near my boy ever again.”

“Sir, I really don’t think…,” Martin had made one last attempt, but my father cut him short.

“Shut your mouth, Mr. Miller. I don’t care if Michael’s IQ is off the chart. He could be the next Albert Einstein for all I care, but this doesn’t change anything. Nobody will care about his brain. I certainly don’t. Michael will receive the proper training to become an accomplished, desirable and high-class omega and as soon as he has his first heat, I will register him with a matching agency so he can be mated to an influential alpha. At least in this way he will be useful to me. Thank god he is pretty and if he puts all this nonsense out of his head and focuses instead on real life, all of us will be better off. Now leave my house. Your last paycheck will be mailed to you.”

I can still remember how the wood of the door felt under my trembling fingertips and how hot the tears were, that were streaming down my face. I sat there, with my ear still pressed to the door, my whole future crumbling around me, when I heard hasty footsteps approaching the door. It was too late to hide but at least I was able to crawl out of the way so the door wouldn’t hit me square in the face.

When Martin discovered me sitting there on the floor, he closed the door behind him and crouched down. He cupped my face with his hand and tried to swipe my tears away, but fresh ones would flow in an endless stream down my face while I sobbed silently. After a few moments he gave up, gathered me into his arms and carried me to my mom. I still remember how it felt to be held by him while he explained everything to my mom. Then he placed me in her lap, ruffled my hair and said goodbye. I thought I would never see him again.

This was the last time I let an alpha touch me voluntarily. I was 10 years old. 

So, now you know why I hate being an omega.

My father stayed true to his word and I was placed in a boarding school for wealthy omega children soon after, to escape the misguided influence of my mom. I don’t know if my father really thought that he was doing me a favor or if he just tried to get the best out of his defective omega son, and frankly, I don’t care.

About a year later, the car accident happened and suddenly I was an orphan. The principal of the boarding school, a kind middle aged female alpha, called me to her office. A police officer was waiting for me and he explained to me what had happened and how things would go from here.

I remember that I felt so numb. It was like someone had hit the pause button and the whole world had screeched to a halt around me. I didn’t feel anything really. No pain, no grief, not even relief. Just nothing.

Later I cried for my mom. For not having been able to see her one last time. But at that moment in that office, I felt as dead as they were.

When the cop touched my arm, probably to offer me some comfort, I came back to life and I flinched away and started screaming at him. I was dimly aware that the principal made her apologies while I had wedged myself in a corner of the office with a chair pulled protectively in front of me, screaming like a banshee. After a few minutes, the school nurse, a very maternal female omega, arrived, picked me up and brought me to my small room. She rocked me in her lap and held me close while I tried to fathom what the death of my parents would mean to me; what would happen to me now.

A few days later I found out when the family attorney visited me at the school. It seemed that business hadn’t been going so well and after all the debts were paid off, there was nothing left for me to live on. I couldn’t stay in this expensive private school. Instead I would be placed in the care of the state with an appointed legal guardian until I got mated to a suitable alpha after my first heat.

I know that the attorney wasn’t cruel on purpose. He was a gray-haired beta, an associate of a well-known law firm and his low status within the ranks was the reason why he had to deal with this unpleasant business. If there had been money and I had been an heir to a fortune, most likely the senior partner of this firm had made this visit instead of sending an underling and taken on my legal guardianship.

After the attorney had explained that the state would send someone to pick me up and bring me to my new foster home, he handed me a small jewelry box. I knew what was inside, so I didn’t open it. Not there in front of him. This was private.

Later, when I was alone in my room, sitting between my packed-up belongings, I hesitantly opened it. My mother’s locket was lying inside on the old, worn blue velvet, fastened to a fine silver chain that used to be her preferred necklace. I pressed the spring on the side and it flipped open. Inside of it was a picture of myself, taken the day before I had been sent away. I carefully pried it loose with my fingernail. Then I took the picture frame with her photo inside, took out the photo and cut out her face. I fitted the photo into the locket, very carefully so it wouldn’t get damaged, and slipped the chain over my head. To this day, it is the most valuable thing I own.

I ran away that night, only with a rucksack filled with some spare clothes, the little bit of money I had and the locket around my neck. My life was my own now and it was time I took it into my own two hands.

To make a long story short, I somehow made it back to Manhattan and tracked down Martin Miller and although he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me, he was kind enough to give me shelter and food for a few days. When I got the feeling that he was on the brink of informing the authorities of my whereabouts, I moved on. 

Somehow, I survived on the streets without getting caught, although there had been some near misses. I guess being smart helped somewhat. Somewhere along the way I met a beta who is a couple of years older than me and we helped each other out. The name of this beta is Trevor.

Trevor is not really intelligent, but he has this unique way to make other people do his bidding. I guess you could say he has emotional intelligence and street smarts. He always sees opportunities to make a quick buck although he hasn’t got a real job. You could say he is a Jack of all trades. And it was he who introduced me to all the chemical products, all of them illegal of course, an omega needs to fly under the radar of an alpha-led society.

At first, I had no money and to pay him back and earn my keep I would run drugs for him. Not the real bad stuff, just weed and sometimes a few pills. Trevor would let me crash on his couch a few nights a week and when he didn’t because he had company, I slept rough. When my first heat hit me, he was the one who helped me through it.

He’d expressed his curiosity in heat-sex a couple of times before it happened and since he wasn’t an alpha and my first heat, I was 15 and apparently a late bloomer, left me almost helpless, I was sort of grateful to have him by my side and help me through this. I didn’t really enjoy the sex part but being held and petted had felt kinda nice.

Soon after this I discovered that there were suppressants available and ever since then I take my little white pill every morning almost religiously. Together with the scent inhibitors I can pass for a beta, albeit a very scrawny one and if asked I say that I’m 17 or that I had been very sick as a kid to explain my height and my slender figure, but I get by.

I recently have moved into my own little apartment in Williamsburg. It is about the size of a shoebox, and a grubby, smelly one at that to tell you the truth, but I can just afford the rent if I scrimp on food and other stuff. The only other thing I’m willing to spend my money on without giving it a second thought are the chemicals that allow me to pass for a beta and my monthly payment to Trevor.

I’m not taking drugs, if you think that’s what the money’s for. Sure, I’ve tried some weed when I started running drugs for Trevor, but it makes me careless and talkative and is therefore really dangerous to me, so I kicked that habit pretty quickly.

No, Trevor did me another huge service that will keep me in his debt for a long time, as he keeps reminding me. He has somehow managed to bribe someone in the registry office to change my status from omega to beta and that little bit of freedom it gives me is worth every penny of the 5000 bucks it cost me. I recently was able to get a regular job as a bike messenger now that I’m officially a beta and I earn a weekly paycheck. This bit of independence along with the knowledge that I will not become the fuck-toy of an alpha against my will, is the best thing in the world.

So, all in all, my life is okay. At least I’m not the brainless sex-bimbo for an alpha who only treats me as one of his prized possessions. I have a place to live, a legitimate job and the means to make some money on the side thanks to Trevor. And it’s not only the drug-running.

Every now and then Trevor asks me to make a delivery for him and if I’m really desperate I will do it but mostly I try to stay on the right side of the law – or the not so dangerous side of the law, to be more precise. Because every three months, when the next round of LSAT, MSAT and all the other entry tests for special university courses are due, the big money comes in. Needless to say, that Trevor had come up with this scheme and of course he gets a percentage of every buck I make, but hey, that’s okay. He took me in when I needed a place to stay, he helped me sort out my life and he keeps me in suppressants and scent inhibitors, so I owe him big time.

So, yeah, there you have it. The tragic life story of Mike Ross, male omega. And now that you’re in the loop it’s time to finally make my delivery and get myself something to eat.


	3. Harvey's Story

I so wish Louis would come into my office with one of his bullshit complaints so I would have a legitimate reason to punch him in his smug, ugly, sweaty face. Instead, I do the time-honored substitute for it and yell at my assistant.

“Donna!”

I can see her flinch as she is sitting in her cubicle just outside my office with the glass walls and deep inside, I regret my harsh tone. The rational part of my brain knows what’s going on but my testosterone addled limbic system tries to shut rational Harvey down.

When she enters my office, I know I’m in deep shit. Although a beta, Donna takes shit from no one, least of all from me. If the redhead had been born with the alpha-gene, we would hail her as our queen and pay tribute to her. So maybe it’s a good thing she was born beta. Now she organizes my work, my life and usually she manages to keep me out of trouble. I’m seriously co-dependent on her and she knows it although it is never mentioned, by anybody.

“You hollered, your majesty.”

By her tone I can tell she’s not impressed. She has crossed her arms in front of her magnificent breasts, giving me her best schoolteacher stare while she’s looking down her nose at me. The fact that this makes me hard in my pants tells me everything I need to know about my current condition.

“I need a rut testing-kit. I thought there was one in my desk, but I can’t find it. Get me one.”

These test-kits are like pregnancy tests, only more accurate. When I pee on one it will tell me exactly in which stage of my cycle I’m in, so I can make the proper preparations. It’s accurate down to almost the hour. I already know that I must be at least in the early stages but the fact that I picture ripping Louis’ head off in minute detail makes me worry a little. Maybe I’m further along than I thought.

“Harvey, you don’t need a testing-kit. You need a sweet omega you can bury your cock in for the next 3 to 5 days ASAP.”

“I have still some time. I’m not due till tomorrow.”

She swaggers over to me and gives me another of her no-nonsense looks.

“Wishing it away doesn’t help. You’re going into rut within the next hour, Harvey. So get out of here. You’re not in a fit state to be working.”

I open my mouth to argue but she plays her meanest card.

“Don’t make me call Jessica.”

She knows that this threat will shut me up. Even flooded with testosterone and all the other alpha-hormones I’m no match for my managing partner.

“I have an appointment with Feldman later,” I state lamely in a last attempt of resistance. I hate to be told what to do and she knows it. Hence her smug smile.

She just shakes her head like I’m pathetic and slowly I’m beginning to feel that way.

“Rescheduled for next week. And before you argue any further: Your leave of absence-form is with HR, your housekeeper has restocked your pantry and the agency will send Scottie over tonight to stay with you. I know you like her. So, buck up. Ray is already on his way.”

That leaves me only with one more question.

“How did you know?”

That almost makes her laugh out loud, but I can see that she’s at least trying to take me seriously.

“In the last three days you made six associates cry, I had two calls from HR complaining about your attitude towards your co-workers, you threw your coffee mug at Louis during a briefing, almost got into a fistfight in court with that sleazy asshole Tanner and you yelled at me. Twice! That’s how I know.”

“Was it so obvious?” I can’t help that I feel a little ashamed. Not for all the stuff she listed. Well, maybe for yelling at her. But I hate that my developing condition was obvious to anybody but me.

“Only for the people who really know you.” She goes to my wet bar and gets me a Scotch. I shouldn’t drink since it makes me lose control even faster, but what the hell. Ray will pick me up in a short while and as soon as I’m home everything will be fine. Even better when I’m buried balls deep in Scottie’s warm, pliant omega body.

The whisky burns in my mouth but it’s a good burn. It distracts me from my slowly hardening cock.

Before Donna leaves she puts her hand on my arm. Normally I wouldn’t tolerate it. The right to touch is the prerogative of alphas, but she is Donna. My confidant, my best friend, my lifesaver. She has earned that right.

“Everything will be fine, Harvey. I got your back.”

When she leaves to do her thing I lean back, take another sip and try to stop fighting against myself.

**********

While I wait for Ray, I should probably put you in the loop. I’m quite sure you know about how our world works. It’s almost like yours with only small differences. Alphas like me make up about 10 % of the population, omegas make up another 10% and the rest are betas. Alphas are mostly found in high profile and competitive jobs or in politics, along with a few betas. You see, we have this highly developed urge to dominate and compete along with a certain ruthlessness and resistance to stress. Some betas are able to give us a run for our money, like Donna for example, but not many. Omegas, most of them female, are basically the opposite of us alphas. They’re submissive and sweet and want to please. They also have a highly developed sex-drive which is quite nice, I have to admit. It’s not that it’s a rule that an alpha needs to sleep with an omega. Basically, everybody can sleep with everyone, but I’ve never heard of two alphas or two omegas being a couple. But I’m sure you’ve heard it all and I hate repetitions so let’s change the topic. 

So, I think I should tell you a little about myself instead. My name is Harvey Specter. I recently made Senior Partner at Pearson Hardman, the best law firm for corporate cases in New York, and my peers consider me to be the best closer in town. And before you ask, I close situations. I usually win, be it in court or at the negotiating table and opposing counsel usually piss their pants when they hear that I’ve taken a case. 

I’m an alpha and as you’ve picked up on by now, I’m going into rut. Which sucks. Well, not the rut per se. Knotting a sweet little omega for hours on end is really nothing to complain about. What sucks is that I had different plans. I have tickets for the Yankees tonight and now I will need to stay at home and fuck my brains out. Well, maybe Ray, my driver, might like to take his son to the game so the tickets won’t go to waste.

Most of the employees at Pearson Hardman are betas and they do all the grunt work and keep all the little wheels in motion, but to become a partner you need to be an alpha. We don’t have any omegas working for us. It’s not like we have an official policy against it, but we work long hours in a high stress environment and omegas can’t usually cut it so over the years this has become the unwritten rule. Plus, they would be way too distracting for us alphas. Not to imagine what would happen if I would run into an omega now.

Well, not any omega. But someone compatible to me upwards of 70 % would be at serious risk of my humping her or his bones by now. With us alphas it’s not so much about gender and more about the right scent. And when everything is said and done, one sweet, wet hole is pretty much like the other.

But enough with the sex talk. Like I said, I’m an attorney at the best law firm in Manhattan. I’m quite comfortable with the role nature has dealt me. I’m nearing my forties but I don’t look it. I try to stay in shape. When I’m not working, or picking up a one-night stand, I work out. Mainly running and boxing with a little bit of weight training to keep the right muscle groups in shape.

The only thing that lately got on my nerves are the pointed remarks of my boss. Jessica Pearson is one of the few female alphas who work in this field of law and frankly, she is able to run laps around all of us male alphas. She might not have my skills at the negotiating table but she certainly knows how to pluck at the right strings to make us puppets dance to her tune.

She has recently gotten it into her head that it’s time for me to settle down in life and now she’s pushing one willing omega after another in my way. All of them beautiful and sophisticated of course, true trophy omegas, but so damn boring. And their eagerness to please me, the way they throw themselves at me, only makes me despise them more. I know that I’m considered a catch, since my omega will have status and wealth, but we alphas are natural hunters so what good is a prey that throws itself at you willingly? There should be at least a little bit of a chase. But maybe I’m just different from other alphas.

Most alphas want to bond at one point in their life. You know, find a mate, make the bite that changes your and their life, and play house, kids included. But that’s just not me.

Maybe it has something to do with my upbringing.

My mom was the alpha in our little family. She was the rebel child in her very conservative, old-fashioned southern family, flunked out of college first chance she got and toured the U.S. with a few friends in an old VW Samba, visiting one music festival after another. Just think _Hippie_ and the picture of my mom will probably pop up in front of your inner eye, long, grubby batik clothes and flowers in her wild, unkempt hair included.

It was the 70s and from what I’ve heard, my mom did it all. Lots of sex and drugs, music and giving a shit about what her parents wanted for her. So when she met my dad, a jazz musician who could charm the panties off the ladies with his sax skills, she fell for him hook, line and sinker - for about a week, but it was long enough to get herself knocked up.

She only noticed it much later after she had moved on and at first she probably thought about getting rid of me, but then she realized that her having a kid would piss her folks at home off big time. The alpha daughter of a wealthy, respectable, and even more important, traditional family flunking out of college, taking drugs and banging everything with a cock, getting pregnant by a poor musician. And as cherry on top of it all, my dad was not even an omega. He was a beta of no consequence or social standing whatsoever.

You see, when an alpha and an omega reproduce, chances are 50 / 50 their offspring will be either alpha or omega, depending a little on how strong the alpha’s genes are. But when a beta is involved in this equation, chances are 85% to 15% that the kid will be a beta. It has something to do with betas being the basic human models while alpha and omega genes are essentially some sort of mutations. Given the chance, nature will most likely revert back to its most basic model.

So, you see, my mom telling her folks that she would be having a beta kid was the last straw. My grandparents threw her out, but not before they canceled all her credit cards and dissolved her trust-fund. Suddenly poor and pregnant without a family to indulge and provide for her wasn’t as much fun as my mom had thought it would. So she tracked down my dad and he did the honorable thing and married her. It was quite a shock for the both of them when my DNA-test came back.

My dad’s career as a musician picked up slowly but surely and he played with a lot of famous jazz musicians like Dizzy Gillespie and Chick Corea. I still have an album where my dad plays the sax in the background for Alice Coltrane. Whenever I feel particularly lost, I listen to it and it makes me feel better. Sad but also better.

But back to my story. My mom being still the little rebel at heart, couldn’t really settle into her new role as mother and housewife. Needless to say, my dad brought a lot of his musician-friends home and it was only a matter of time until my mom reverted back to her old tricks.

I think she tried to be discreet at first, but my dad adored his alpha wife so much that he turned a blind eye and over time she got more and more ruthless until it was an open secret that she would screw anything with a cock. Maybe she tried to get a reaction out of him, but he was a beta and standing up to an alpha was just not in his genes.

I was 16 when I caught her in the act. I came home from school early because I had gotten into a fight and was suspended for the rest of the week.

She was sucking off the guy from the shop who changed the bottles for our water dispenser. His eyes were as wide as saucers when I came into the kitchen and I can still remember the panic in them. He started tapping on my mom’s shoulder but she kept on sucking him. Maybe she thought I was my dad. The guy tried to pull out of her mouth but she wouldn’t let up and after a few more seconds he came in her mouth. I could see that he tried to fight it, but her alpha scent was most likely overpowering his self-control. I don’t really blame him. After all, he was just an omega, only a few years older than me and in no position to offer any resistance to my mom.

When he was finished shuddering and panting like a freight train, she pulled her mouth off his tiny omega dick and turned around. The expression on her face slowly turned from the cat that ate the cream to deep shame. That’s when I knew she had really thought that it was my dad instead of me who had come home.

I didn’t speak to her for several weeks although she pleaded and begged with me. I didn’t tell my dad, either. It was enough that I was suffering, so why should he too? And deep down I knew that he knew. Knowing that his son had witnessed his mother’s unfaithfulness would only hurt him more.

When she had finally worn me down after two months of constant begging, I listened to her. She tried to explain that it was in her nature to seek out an omega. That it was _in our nature as alphas_. We were hardwired to find the right omega and bond with them. So her marrying a beta had been against nature and she was too weak to fight her urges to find and dominate omegas.

I hated her for a while. Maybe I still do. I talk to her once a year on her birthday though. My dad passed away a few years ago and that somehow makes it easier. It doesn’t feel like I’m betraying him anymore.

Her words though are still ringing in my ears, even after all those years. Every time I meet an interesting omega or even a beta, I can hear her whispering in my mind. Alphas are predestined to find their true mate. And until they do they won’t stop looking. They might be fond of their fuck-partners, even care for them up to a certain point, but until they find their one true omega they will keep searching.

Most matches between an alpha and an omega have a compatibility rate of 80% or slightly above. It seems to be enough for these couples. But I know myself well enough that I will keep wondering if there is maybe someone more compatible, more suited, someone just better out there for me. And I couldn’t do to my bonded mate what my mom did to my dad. I might be an asshole, but even I am not that cruel.

I have my fair share of sex though, in case you were wondering. I’m not a hermit or a monk. It’s mostly casual one time stuff, but sometimes I do encores if my partner doesn’t bore me out of my mind right after my knot has locked in place. But I always make it absolutely clear right from the get-go, that I’m not looking for a bond-mate.

That might seem a little sad to you, but hey, I’m quite content. I mean, lots of hot sex with hot omegas and betas, what’s there to complain? And for my rut, when I’m most vulnerable and susceptible to omega scent, I use a special service just to stay on the safe side. The aforementioned Scottie, officially known as Dana Scott, has been my rut-companion for my last four ruts. Every six months or so she spends a couple of days with me until my brain takes over again. And in that time I can be absolutely sure that I won’t accidentally wake up with a new bond-mate. She’s a professional and knows how to prevent me from executing the bond-bite. And although we’re a good match in bed (or floor, dinner-table, couch, Jacuzzi, you name it) our compatibility is somewhere just below the 80 % so we both know that there’s someone better out there for both of us. 

Suddenly the intercom chimes and interrupts my thoughts.

“Harvey? Ray is here.”

I grunt my acknowledgement, knock back the rest of my Scotch and get up. I ponder briefly whether I should take my laptop home with me, but then decide against it. Donna’s right. I won’t be using my brain in the next few days.

Donna and Ray are waiting for me just outside my office. Normally my driver would wait at the car, but Donna must have briefed him on my current status and the two betas have deemed it safer to accompany me down there, to keep me out of trouble.

Maybe it’s for the best. If Louis crosses my path on the way to the elevator banks I just might give his face that much needed makeover after all.


	4. Mike's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of Mike's story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and all your kind comments so far.  
> My beta-reader for my other story, "The art of coming clean", the amazing Tara_Beth has agreed to be my beta-reader for this story as well. Sadly about 2 weeks ago a storm hit the area where she's living very hard so right now she's busy cleaning up and getting her life back, so until things have calmed down for her a little, I'm doing this on my own, which means all errors regarding grammar and spelling as well as all plot-holes are my own.

The hotdog wasn’t enough to make my hunger go away completely, but that gnawing feeling in my stomach is gone, along with the slight light-headedness. I even had enough money to buy myself two granola bars for later, but the hotdog must be enough for now.

The woman from the art gallery had turned out to be a cheap bitch, so the tip had been smaller than I hoped for. Next time I won’t hurry so much when she wants something delivered. See how she likes it.

My phone chimes and at the next red light I look at it and smile. Express delivery. That means 10 bucks extra. Dinner! But I need to get a move on to earn that bonus.

The pickup address is only a few blocks away so that’s probably the reason I got this assignment. I don’t know yet where I need to go from there but I do know that I have only one hour for the whole thing, starting right now.

The red light takes forever to change, and I decide to get a little creative since my dinner is hanging in the balance here.

At the next traffic light I chance it and brush through the crossing even though it’s already yellow. The few loud honks this provokes is just background noise to the rapid heartbeat booming in my ears.

I can feel how the sweat is soaking through the thin fabric of my shirt and I’m hoping to god that the scent inhibitor I put on this morning is still working. The last thing I want is to trail my scent all over the streets of Manhattan. But then, I probably needn’t worry. I’ve been on suppressants for so long I almost certainly don’t smell like an omega anymore, even without the scent inhibitor.

I’m changing lanes quickly, looking over my shoulder every time I do. The taxi-drivers in New York are ruthless and I don’t want to end up as a hood ornament. The middle and left lane are slowing down in front of me and the space between them is too narrow to drive safely through them. Especially if some cab-passenger suddenly opens the door to get out, not wanting to wait in the traffic jam. Happens all the time and Ben, a fellow messenger, just recently spent two days in hospital because of this. So I decide to stick to the right lane.

But after a few more yards I can suddenly see the reason for the jam. A big black town-car is double-parked on the right lane a couple of hundred yards ahead of me. Jerk!

My gaze zooms around, trying to find a way around that obstacle without losing my speed. Then I see a gap between the parked cars. If I can make it through, I can continue my way on the sidewalk until I come to the next crossing. Yeah, I think I’ll do just that.

The space between the two parked cars is just big enough for me to get through and I do a little jump with my bike, yanking the handlebar upwards, bending my knees and hop, to get over the curb and onto the sidewalk.

Now my way is clear. The double-parked car is a couple of yards ahead of me and pedestrian traffic is light. In the peripheral vision of my right eye I can see three people, two men and a red-haired woman, on a collision course, so I holler out a warning without breaking my stride. It will be enough for me if they pause for just one second and people usually do stop when they see me coming.

I’m almost in the clear when the world suddenly spins around me. Something solid hits me in the chest and my bike is somehow gone from under me. The view of the blue sky, interspersed with the polished facades and shimmering glass of the skyscrapers is suddenly changed to the dirty-grey of the sidewalk and a man’s face. I land on something, or someone, soft-ish but then I’m immediately flipped on my back with a solid weight on top of me.

 _What the hell_? I want to shout but the shock has my mouth glued shut and I’m still a little winded.

I’m waiting for the pain to settle in but it doesn’t come. I can feel a hand at the back of my head, preventing it from making contact with the hard sidewalk. Yeah, before you ask, I don’t own a helmet.

Everything in my mind is shouting, “ _Get up! Get away! Fight!_ ” but I’m just lying helplessly on my back, gazing into the golden-brown eyes of this handsome man on top of me.

“Pretty omega,” the guy croons softly. “My pretty omega.”

_Wait! What?_

Suddenly the guy shoves his nose into the crook of my neck, nuzzles me and then starts to lick my sweaty skin. Right over my frigging bonding gland. His tongue is soft and warm on my skin and I start to shiver when he lightly sucks on the barely palpable nub underneath my skin.

“Smells so good,” the guy mumbles against my neck and his breath tickles my wet skin. He sort of smells nice too, I notice before I can help myself and for a moment I just want to relax my whole body, bare my neck and give myself over to him.

_Oh Fuck!_

Finally my brain, along with my self-preservation instinct, kicks in.

“Get off me you freak! I’m a beta!” I yell at the top of my lungs while my hands try to shove the guy off. God, he’s heavy and doesn’t budge at all.

From his behavior I gather that he’s an alpha in rut. I can’t really smell him, or more precisely his pheromones, all that well, thank god. That’s a side effect of the suppressants. I’m not as susceptible to scent as omegas normally are and this is a good thing or I wouldn’t be able to fight against this dude. No, without the suppressants I would most likely spread my legs, bare my neck and produce gallons of slick while I would beg him to fuck me senseless.

I squirm and shove against his solid body, registering that he’s wearing a nice suit but filing this thought away for later. His left hand catches my right in a firm grip and pushes it down without any effort while his right hand still cradles my head to protect it from the hard concrete underneath me. Great! Now I have only one hand to fight against him.

I can feel his erection grinding against my pelvis and it’s freakishly huge. It’s almost like he has a 2 pound salami shoved down the front of his pants. So not cool dude!

“Let go of him, Harvey. At once. Don’t make me use the spray. You know I will do it.”

I hear a woman yelling and then another pair of light-brown hands start to yank at the guy’s - _Harvey’s? -_ shoulders. He lifts his head off my neck and snarls over his shoulder at the interruption. I notice that his eyes are almost pure amber now before a spray of some sort hits him square in the face and he closes them hastily and starts to sputter and cough. I hold my breath in case that it is pepper-spray but my eyes don’t sting. Maybe it was something else.

Together, the woman and the man are wrestling the alpha off of me and frog-march him to the waiting town-car which had blocked my way in the first place. I should’ve guessed it was his.

I just lie on my back, trying to get my breath back while I listen to the woman’s tirade, scolding the alpha like he is a naughty little boy.

After a moment I pull myself together and get slowly to my feet. When I look around I discover my bike, lying a few yards away. All around us people have stopped and watched the tragedy in front of them unfold but now that the alpha is securely locked up in his car there’s nothing much to see so the crowd disperses slowly.

I go to retrieve my bike on slightly shaky legs. I’m still a little rattled. Being plucked from your bike while driving at 20 miles per hour will do that to you. I rub my chest a little since I can still feel his arm grabbing me around my torso when he snatched me off my bike like I was weighing nothing. The way it feels I think I will have some bruising there. Well, this can’t be helped now but all things considered the alpha has been very gentle with me.

When I pick my bike up, I can see that the handlebar is slightly off center and I think there’s also a slight 8 in my front wheel as well. I lift the wheel off the ground and spin it to assess the damage. Suddenly someone touches my shoulder and I nearly jump out of my skin. Yeah, definitely still rattled.

“Are you alright?” the red-haired woman asks me when I turn around.

I take some deep breaths to calm down a little because I can still feel my heart pounding away in my chest. “Yeah, I think so,” I finally manage to say. No need to tell her about the bruise. Then I add as an afterthought, “But my bike is bust.” I show her how the front wheel wobbles when I spin it. There’s no way I can keep working with a bike like this.

She looks me over and seems to make the connection between my bike, my messenger bag with the sticker saying _Bike Messengers can do it all day long!_ on it and my overall appearance, baggy cargo shorts and sweaty t-shirt included.

“I’m sorry. He should’ve been at home by now but he…,” she trails off and shrugs her shoulders, obviously not knowing what to say. “Sorry. I’m really sorry,” she finally concludes.

“Not your fault,” I try to appease her. Somehow I like her and anyway, it was the alpha’s mistake. He should’ve known better.

“It sort of is,” she contradicts me. “I’m his assistant. It’s my job to keep him out of trouble.”

“Must be a hell of a job,” I mutter without thinking and she smiles.

“You have no idea, kid.” But then her smile vanishes slowly. “And you’re sure that you’re not hurt?”

She looks at my hand and I notice that I’m once again rubbing my chest to soothe the slowly developing pain, so I turn the motion into a casual scratch before I let my hand sink down to my side.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He somehow managed to keep me safe. But I have no idea why he attacked me.”

She cocks her head and scrutinizes my face until I want to squirm under that inquisitive gaze. I should’ve held my tongue.

“Maybe Harvey thought you’re an omega. He’s still in the early stages of his rut so he should’ve at least some control. So, are you an omega?”

Her question tells me that she is beta and that’s why she doesn’t trust her nose. Even without the scent masking chemicals she would most likely not be able to smell me, or at least my pheromones. I’m sure she can smell my sweat just fine. But that doesn’t make her any less dangerous to me. On the contrary. She relies more on hard facts than instinct.

My thoughts spin at a 150 miles per hour. I need to find a credible story, otherwise this woman won't let it go. I know that some omegas, either matched to an alpha or under the supervision of a legal guardian, are allowed to work in certain jobs but I’m quite sure that bike messenger is not one of them. Too dangerous for us poor, little, frail omegas.

“No, of course not.” I try to make my voice as convincingly as possible but somehow I think I overshoot a little when her eyes narrow slightly. Maybe I shouldn’t have snorted dismissively. “I’m a beta. I work as a bike messenger. I have a certificate and all.”

There’s still some skepticism in her eyes so I come up with a lie. “I was just delivering something to an art gallery. There was this artist there and I think she was an omega. Maybe I’ve somehow picked up her scent. She hugged me when I delivered an envelope to her. She was very emotional.”

I know I’m volunteering too many details, one of the trademarks of a liar, and I almost hold my breath, hoping she buys my BS. Luckily for me her phone suddenly chimes once and this breaks the spell.

“Alright. That might be it,” she concedes absentmindedly while she glances down at her phone.

I nod my head frantically. “Yeah, must be.”

I can see in her eyes the moment she decides to let it go. “So, like I said, I’m truly sorry this happened. Let me reimburse you for your damaged bike. That’s the least I can do.”

She takes some cash out of her purse. Before I can think about this, I take it. At first glance it must be close to 500 bucks.

“Look, lady, that’s very kind of you but it’s too much. That’s more than my bike is worth.” I don’t know why I’m honest with her and the hungry part of me wants to kick this honest part in the nuts. I can’t really remember when I held that much money in my hand. I count 300 bucks and try to give them back to her but she just shakes her head.

“My name is Donna. And it’s not my money, it’s his. And he has enough of it so he won’t miss this. Maybe you can buy a helmet and some food as well. You look like you need a good meal.”

Her voice is kind, not judgmental, and I shrug and push the banknotes into the pocket of my shorts.

“I’m Mike,” I introduce myself belatedly and she actually offers me her hand and I shake it.

“It’s nice to meet you Mike.” She takes a business card out of her purse. “This is Harvey’s card. I’m his assistant so if you dial this number, you will reach me. Call if you need anything.”

I’m hesitant to take it but I can always throw it away later. It’s easier than to argue with her.

“I won’t need anything. The money is more than enough. And it was an accident after all.”

I’ve looked at the card before I shoved it in the side pocket of my cargo shorts. _Harvey Specter, Attorney at Law._

I have a feeling that this guy will more likely sue me than anything else if I ever call. I was the one biking on the sidewalk so it was essentially all my fault. If I had stayed in the street none of this would’ve happened so it’s better to stay away from this guy, even if he hadn’t pegged me for my omega self. All of a sudden, I have the acute feeling that I just dodged a bullet. No, I will stay clear of this guy under all circumstances.

“I need to get to his place now, to make sure he’s settled alright.”

I glance at the street but the town-car is gone. Maybe the driver has deemed it safer to take off as soon as possible.

“Okay. And thank you Donna.”

She smiles and gives me a little wave with her fingers before she turns towards the street, sticks her fingers into her mouth and whistles loudly for a cab.

I grab my phone and call the office. With my damaged bike there is no way that I can make the delivery. Instead, I need to go back to the office. There’s a little repair shop at the back and if the damage isn’t too bad I can make the repairs myself. But thankfully, for once I don’t need to worry about getting off work early. The 500 bucks are a lifesaver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> I always like to connect with my readers so if you want to drop me a line and let me know what you're thinking, I'll be grateful.  
> And kudos is also always appreciated.


	5. Harvey's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of Harvey's story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and all your kind comments so far.  
> My beta-reader for my other story, "The art of coming clean", the amazing Tara_Beth has agreed to be my beta-reader for this story as well. Sadly about 2 weeks ago a storm hit the area where she's living very hard so right now she's busy cleaning up and getting her life back, so until things have calmed down for her a little, I'm doing this on my own, which means all errors regarding grammar and spelling as well as all plot-holes are my own.

It’s ridiculous that Donna and Ray think it necessary to accompany me down to the street. My self-control is not that far gone. And it’s only a few hundred yards from the lobby of the building to the place where Ray normally pics me up.

They’re flanking me left and right, almost like I’m their prisoner and they my guards and it annoys the shit out of me. Maybe I should be grateful for their attentiveness but I’m not. I’m the alpha here so it is me who should do the guarding and not the other way round.

I snarl at Ray to back off since I know that he will be more likely to obey me than Donna. Then I pick up speed and march at a quick pace towards the curb. I can see that Ray has double-parked the car, causing a little bit of a traffic jam but I don’t care. If he gets a ticket, I’ll gladly pay and he knows it.

Both of them are now a few strides behind me. Suddenly someone hollers a warning and when I swivel my head in the direction of the shout, a faint gust of wind brushes against my face, carrying with it a delicious scent.

_Oh my god! What is that?_

The scent is getting a little stronger and when a scrawny teenager zips past me on his bike my arm shoots forward and plucks him off his ride. It happens automatically, without conscious thought on my side. I just know that I need to stop that guy. That it is of the utmost importance to not let him go.

His momentum caries us forwards and suddenly there’s just one thought in my mind. Protect him!

I manage to turn us around while we’re falling so he lands on top of me but then I flip him on his back so I can cover his body with mine to keep him safe. The short and sweaty dark-blond hairs are soft in the palm of my right hand. I’ve cradled his head to protect it, to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.

Incredibly blue eyes gaze up at me and his scent envelopes me in a heady cloud. The world fades away and there is only this stunning creature underneath me that really matters to me now.

“Pretty omega… _my_ pretty omega,” I voice my thoughts without any filter between my brain and my mouth.

I push my nose in the crook of his neck to get more of this heady, delicious, intoxicating scent. It’s slightly wrong, faintly chemical and too weak for the way the omega is sweating, but I can smell it nevertheless underneath it all. He smells like sunshine and happiness. Sorry, I can’t describe it any better. It’s like his scent is directly connected to my heart, this hard, shriveled up thing in my chest that suddenly beats with pure joy. And my cock likes it too, since it swells in my pants until it’s fully erect and then starts throbbing in time with my booming heartbeat.

I need to taste him, to make him mine. This is all I can think of as my tongue darts out and tentatively licks the sweaty skin. He tastes sweet and a little salty, like dark chocolate with sea-salt and it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my whole life. After a few strokes with my tongue I detect the little nub underneath his skin below the ear, his omega gland. It’s too small right now, the size of a lentil when it should be at least as big as a chickpea. For the bond-bite it needs to be bigger, more swollen, so I lave over it with my tongue to stimulate it. Then I close my lips over it and start to suckle. The omega underneath me moans softly and his whole body relaxes. If my mouth weren't pressed so firmly against his skin, I would’ve smiled. Got you!

I tell him how incredibly good he smells while I grind my hips against his to let him feel what he does to me, but suddenly he starts to fight against me. I don’t understand why. That’s not right. He should feel safe and relaxed with me caring for him, caressing and stimulating him. Why does he fight me? I capture his one hand with mine and push it down, trapping him. Now he has only one hand to shove against me and he’s so skinny and weak that it’s almost comically that he still tries. It’s endearing, really.

All I want is to take him home with me and make him mine. He is mine already, he just doesn’t know it yet. So when Donna starts to yell at me and Ray yanks at my shoulders I turn around and snarl like a wolf would snarl at any intruder who tries to invade its territory.

They don’t understand that this boy, this gorgeous omega, is mine.

Donna still yells at me but the meaning of her words don’t register in my brain anymore. I just wish they both would leave me alone so I could lick and sniff and pet my omega, make him moan with want and then plunder his body with my hands, my mouth and my cock until he falls apart with pleasure, moaning my name while I knot his sweet little hole.

The spray hits me out of nowhere. Suddenly I’m blind and weak and I can’t smell him anymore.

“NO!” I scream. They don’t understand that I need to be with him. I’m helpless, the chemicals in the spray causing my brain to short-circuit. I can barely walk without help now and fighting is out of the question.

They drag me away from my omega and I feel so lost. Don’t they understand that I need him? That he needs me?

I sink down on cool leather and somehow I know that I’m in the car. I can hear the door thudding shut behind me and then we’re moving.

“Donna?” I ask weakly as tears begin to stream down my face.

“Donna’s not here, Harvey. She has stayed behind to take care of the boy. She will take a cab to your condo.”

“Need…get back,” I mumble, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“No, Harvey. You need to get to your condo so you won’t endanger anyone else. I called the agency and they will send Miss Scott over right away. As soon as you are with her you will feel better.”

“Not Scottie,” I protest. “Need…him.”

“No Harvey. You can’t have him.” His voice stays firm and I know that he will not obey me, regardless of what I say.

I curl up in the backseat, burying my face in my hands. I know that his scent must be on them and as soon as the spray stops working I will be able to smell him again.

The next half hour is a blur. I know that Ray manages to get me into my condo with the help of one of the doormen from my building. They plunk me down on my bed and I curl up again, sniffing at my hands, trying to get his scent back.

The effect of the spray lasts for almost an hour until I finally can smell him again. By that time Donna is here and a few minutes later Scottie arrives. The women try to take care of me but I just want to be left alone and mourn the loss of my omega.

Soon after Donna leaves and Scottie does her best to distract me, but I can’t let her scent corrupt the scent of my omega. I don’t want her to touch me, but my rut is now in full swing, accelerated by meeting my true omega no doubt. It renders me almost helpless and Scottie starts to undress me while I sniff longingly at my hands. My penis is painfully hard and my body temperature rises so when Scottie straddles me and sinks down on my cock I can’t help the relieved moan escaping my mouth, but I’m still sniffing my hands, imagining it is him riding my cock.

I don’t even know his name, I suddenly realize. I think of him as _the boy_ , and _my omega_ , but I don’t know his name. It nearly makes me sob with grief.

Scottie moves faster, her small hands lying on my chest to steady herself while she rides me hard. I can feel my knot swelling and after a few more moves it locks in place deep inside of her and she lets herself fall forward, snuggling her face against my chest, her long dark hair spread out over us like a blanket.

My balls draw up and tighten and then my orgasm rips through my body while I flood her with my seed, pump her full of it while my knot still expands a little more. She moans but her slender hips stay still, knowing that it would hurt the both of us if she tried to move now.

I yank my hands out of the way so she doesn’t corrupt the boy’s scent on them. I know that I’m cruel for not touching her but I can’t help it. This scent is the only thing I’ve left of him so I need to preserve it.

Her face nuzzles against the side of my neck, much like I’ve done with the boy, and her scent washes over me.

I always liked her scent well enough, but now, while I’m still spending my seed in her, all I can think of is that it smells wrong.

This is the last thought in my mind before exhaustion takes over and the world vanishes around me.

**********

When I come to, Scottie is sitting by my side on the bed, running a wet sponge over my heated body. A water basin with soapy water sits beside her on the bed and she’s dipping the sponge into it before she runs it over my chest again to wash the sweat away.

For a brief moment I let it happen but then a horrible thought hits me. I yank my hands up to my face and sniff. _No!_ His scent is gone. Replaced with the clean smell of my soap.

I scramble off the bed, leaving a confused Scottie behind.

“Please, alpha,” she begs me, knowing that something is wrong with me. I can see in her eyes that I’m scaring her and I feel sorry and a little ashamed.

I try to give her a reassuring smile. After all, she is an omega and thus in need of my care and attention. It’s not her fault that she isn’t the boy.

“I’m sorry, Scottie. It’s just… I’ve just met an omega… my omega, and I can’t stop thinking about him.”

She cocks her head questioningly and I sit back down on the bed and try to put into words what has happened. After the first knotting my brain feels a little bit more lucid and I manage to string a few coherent sentences together.

I can see that she doesn’t take it personally. And when I explain that she just washed his scent away she actually looks ashamed and apologizes profusely.

Suddenly she gets up and goes into my walk-in closet. When she comes out, my rumpled shirt is in her hand.

“Can you smell him on this?” she asks while she’s handing me my shirt and hope blossoms inside of me. After all, I was pressed snug against him. I bury my face in the fabric and there, near my collar, is a faint whiff of him. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, conjuring up his face in front of my inner eye.

For the rest of my rut I cover my face with my shirt and suck in his scent while Scottie rides me, or sucks me or gets me off with her petite hands, doing all the things a professional omega-companion is supposed to do to ease the rut of her client. After all, she’s paid very handsomely for it.

The scent is getting fainter every time I bury my face in the fabric, my own scent covering it and by the end of day four it’s completely gone. I weep for almost an hour when I realize I have no trace left of him.

Needless to say, this was the worst rut I ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> If you want to let me know what you think please leave me a comment. I'm always eager to connect with my readers. And Kudos is always appreciated as well.
> 
> Update August, 30th, 2020: My beta-reader, the lovely Tara_Beth just sent me her notes on all the chapters and I just made all the changes regarding grammar and spelling.


	6. Mike's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weeks after their brief encounter from Mike's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and the kudos. I love that you guys are so enthusiastic about this story. Tara_Beth, my lovely beta-reader, managed to spare some time amidst everything she has to deal with right now and she managed to clean up a lot of my grammar and spelling mistakes and some other blunders as well. All the mistakes still in the story are due to some last-minute changes and therefore completely on me.

My life continues very much the same after the incident with the lawyer. My bike only needed some minor repairs and the 500 bucks will keep me in groceries for the next couple of weeks. And I bought a helmet. Second hand and slightly too big, but still. Aren’t I grown up and responsible?

The first few nights after my involuntary tumble I had some weird dreams, you know, of the sexual variety, but now things have reverted back to normal. Another side effect of the suppressants is, that they damp down my libido. Which kinda sucks a little I guess. I would like to be able to rub one out every once in a while, but it’s a small price to pay when the alternative is to become the bimbo sex-slave to an alpha.

The guy who sells me the suppressants has told me to take a break once a year so I can have a heat to stay safe and healthy, but I don’t care. And anyway, I’ve taken them for several years in a row now without ill effect. Well, beside the libido thing, but the memory of my first heat is enough to make me not want to have another. I’m quite sure Trevor would like to fuck me again, but that’s something I’d rather not repeat. Once was more than enough for my taste.

So, all in all, this little hiccup that could’ve ended in a catastrophe was in fact heaven sent. I still have some of the money safely stored away in my underwear drawer, a rainy-day fund so to speak, but tonight I’m going to make the big bucks, because tonight is LSAT night. And even with Trevor taking his cut, I will make close to 800 bucks. About half of it goes straight back to Trevor to pay off my debt, but the 400 remaining will add nicely to my savings. Maybe someday I will be able to buy a TV set.

You might wonder what the LSAT’s are all about, so let me explain.

Every three months, college students are allowed to take the law school admission tests and depending on the points they score, they can apply to a certain law school. It goes without saying, all the Ivy League schools require the highest scores, which means a minimum of 170 out of 180 total points.

Everybody can take the test for a fee of 50 bucks but it’s only of use to you if you fulfill all the other criteria you need to get into the grad school of your choice, which is the needed undergrad, the necessary funds and, for the more prestigious schools, the right connections. In case I need to point it out to you – I have neither of those requirements.

I did this test once under my own name and I scored a perfect 180. This was necessary to advertise to Trevor’s clients they would get the real deal in hiring me.

Tonight, Trevor has this new client for me. It’s a guy named Harold Gunderson. I don’t know where he finds these losers, but I’m pretty sure it’s not on craigslist, and I most certainly don’t want to meet this guy. This would be more than awkward. He’s most likely one of those hyper-dominant alphas, with more brawn than brains for his own good. He will be there too but there is no reason for us to get acquainted. The only thing he needs to know is my name, that’s all. He signs my name on his test, I sign his name on mine and we’re good.

As you can probably imagine, there are a lot of abysmal test scores under my name out there but I don’t care since I won’t be able to go to law school anyway. I try to tell myself that it’s their loss but thinking about it still hurts, even after all this time, so I push the thought of going to college away quickly.

The test lasts for three hours and the first two and a half I’m just playing with my pencil while I read one of my favorite books in my mind. I love fantasy novels, with Terry Pratchett being one of my all-time favorite authors, but today I’m reading _Good Omens_ , a collaboration between him and Neil Gaiman. I come back to the here and now when the proctor announces the start of the last 30 minutes.

By now I’ve done this test so often, I can finish it easily within 30 minutes. Sometimes they rearrange the order of the questions and answers, so I can’t just tick the boxes in the order I memorized from last time, for which I would need about 5 minutes tops. But even with the need to read the questions it doesn’t take me long to get through all 180 of them.

When I look up from my test-sheet, with still 3 minutes to spare, I catch the proctor looking at me with slightly narrowed eyes. I recognize him from the last test three months ago and he scowls at me like he remembers me too. Well, people are allowed to take the test several times and with my bad results it’s credible that I want to have another go, so no reason to worry.

Belatedly it hits me that I probably shouldn’t have dawdled the first 2 ½ hours away. Sitting there and staring absentmindedly into space while I twirl my pencil around my fingers might have been a little bit suspicious. I always sit somewhere at the back of the room, preferably with a big guy in front of me shielding me from view, but maybe I’ve overstepped this time.

I’m kinda glad that I’m wearing a cap and faux glasses today. Trevor has come up with this idea and now I’m happy he persuaded me to wear them. If I need to get away in a hurry I can ditch them along with my shirt. I’m wearing a tee underneath it so I can at least change some of my appearance.

“Time’s up,” he finally announces and all around me loud groans are sounding.

I close my test sheet and mix with the other test-takers while I glance surreptitiously at the guy waiting at the desk, but his eyes stay fixed on me. Shit!

The line slowly shuffles toward the exit of the room and past the desk where he’s waiting and collecting all the test-sheets. I try to drop my test down with all the others but he snatches it up and puts it to the side.

“Haven’t I seen you here before?” he asks me.

“Yeah, so what?” I ask back, thinking that attack might be the best defense right now. “I’m bad at taking tests man, so thank you for rubbing it in.”

I thought that maybe I can shame him with that but he calls my bullshit.

“If you’re so bad at testing, then why did you stare holes into thin air for more than two hours?” he asks back.

_Busted!_

“Hm, frozen with panic?” I give him my best innocent, blue eyed, teary look but he doesn’t bite.

“Bullshit. I will look at your test specifically, give it my full attention. What’s your name?”

What’s my name? Should I say I’m Harold Gunderson? That’s the name on the test. But my driver’s license has my real name on it so what if he demands to see it? Shit! What shall I do?

Suddenly a guy with blond curly hair, who looks like he’s twelve years old, stumbles over his own feet and bumps into the desk. This shoves it against the crotch of the proctor who almost doubles over. Some of the stacks of test-sheets shift and tumble down and amidst all of this confusion I grab my test-sheet, shove it in the middle of a pile and get the hell out of dodge. Back in the room I can hear a whiny voice apologizing over and over. The guy doesn’t know it, but he’s just saved my bacon.

I run towards the nearest restroom where I ditch the glasses and my shirt. I keep the cap though and when a guy in the hallway about my height if not my stature (I’m skinnier than all of them) passes me by, I put it on his head. The proctor choses this moment to exit the exam room and I quickly turn around while he pursues the wrong guy. I can’t prevent the smug smile spreading over my face. I’m awesome. Mike Ross, the great escape artist.

I’m outside, fumbling with the lock of my bike, when the blond guy with the baby face suddenly approaches me.

“Hey, are you Mike Ross?”

Shit! This must be Harold. Who else would know my name?

“Keep it down, dude!” I hiss at him and he ventures nearer.

“So, are you?”

I roll my eyes. No wonder this guy needs someone to do the test for him.

“Look, if you are who I think you are, you turn around, pretend that you’ve no idea who I am and get on with your life. And when you get your results which will show that you’ve scored 174 while I have probably scored 120, you will pay your bill to Trevor and go to Harvard, thanking your lucky stars that there are people out there like me. Got it?”

I know that I sound mean and his little boy face scrunches up like he’s about to cry. He is the most un-alpha like alpha I’ve ever seen in my life. Well, maybe he’s a beta. I wouldn’t know. Like I said before, my sense of smell isn’t all that good.

“It’s just….I did it on purpose, you know. To help you.”

Oh. OH! So he isn’t as dumb as he looks.

I abandon my lock, straighten up and finally do him the curtesy to look him in the eye.

“Thanks man. I appreciate it. But now you should leave. And so should I. From the look of the proctor, he could still be searching for me and you don’t want to be seen anywhere near me.”

He nods and smiles. “You know, I’m not really dumb,” he states like he has read my mind. “I’m just really nervous when I’m under pressure and I can’t think straight. That’s why I needed you.”

Hm. Now that I look properly at him I can see his intelligence lurking in his eyes, hidden under his fresh face and tons of awkwardness. Maybe he really is smarter than he looks. I am, so why shouldn’t he be?

“Well, it seems to me that you’re a pretty quick thinker when you’re under the gun,” I try to bolster his confidence a little. He gives this some thought until he finally gets what I mean. Then his face lights up and I can’t help but smile in response. “Goodbye, Harold. Have a good life.” This time I really mean it. Somehow, I know that he’s a really nice guy.

“You too, Mike. And thanks again. For everything.”

He turns around and leaves me alone and I finally manage to get my lock open.

I push off and make my way over to Williamsburg. It’s a 40 minute ride on my bike but I’m not in a hurry. I need to think anyway and biking always clears my head. The traffic has eased up a bit, now at close to 10 p.m.

Well, tonight hasn’t panned out quite the way I have planned and it’s due to my own carelessness. I’m quite certain that I’ve scored the promised 174 out of 180 points, enough for Harold to attend Harvard, Yale or Columbia. On the other hand, I’m burned for good at this exam location. Trevor won’t be thrilled by this news, like at all.

Maybe I should take a break with the testing or try something new. The bar-exam would be a nice change and certainly a welcome new challenge. I’m sure I can do it. I just need to buy a Barbri legal handbook and have two weeks of study time and I will be good to go.

I try to prepare myself mentally for the call with Trevor. I just know he will be furious. Perhaps he will try to make me push his weed again. I still owe him about three and a half grand for the falsified birth-certificate and until we’re even I have to do his bidding.

My mind wanders a little, imagining what I will have for dinner later. I’ve gone to the test right after my shift had ended and I’m still wearing my grubby cargo-shorts. I really need to throw them in a washer in the basement of my building. I’ve grabbed them off the pile of dirty clothes this morning and even I can smell the pungent aroma they’re giving off by now. I’ll do that later, or maybe tomorrow.

My mind wanders back to dinner. I still have some sliced bread at home, as well as some peanut butter and jelly. Yeah, a PB&J sounds nice. I will have that.

Suddenly there’s this light coming from the left but before I can turn my head in that direction something hard smashes into my left side. There’s this searing pain in my left lower leg that leaves me breathless and then I feel weightless as I fly through the air before my head crashes onto hard tarmac, followed by the rest of my body and the remaining air in my lungs is pressed out of them on impact in a loud whoosh.

 _Thank god I’m wearing my new helmet_ , is the last thought I have before everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I you want, drop me a note and let me know what you think about all of this. 
> 
> Take care and stay safe.


	7. Harvey's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weeks after their brief encounter from Harvey's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and the kudos. I love that you guys are so enthusiastic about this story. Tara_Beth, my lovely beta-reader, managed to spare some time amidst everything she has to deal with right now and she managed to clean up a lot of my grammar and spelling mistakes and some other blunders as well. All the mistakes still in the story are due to some last-minute changes and therefore completely on me.

I’m back at work for two weeks now and to an outsider I’m the same guy I was before my rut-leave. Maybe a little bit more aggressive and a lot moodier, but essentially the same. I can still charm my clients and crush my opponents when I must. When I enter a bar, I still turn the heads of all the available omegas out searching for a mate, and a few betas as well. Hell, I even have as much meaningless sex as before, maybe even more so. But inside I feel different. Nothing has changed and yet, everything has changed. Because now I know that he is out there somewhere. And having him not by my side is slowly killing me.

I’ve just come back from court and, as it has lately become a habit of mine, I reward myself with a Scotch and some of my dad’s music while I sit on my couch and stare blindly out of the window. Yeah, like I said before, listening to my dad playing the sax makes me sad, but I’m sad already so what the hell. At least it’s something I can hold on to while I drown in my self-pity.

Although I’ve closed my office door, Donna comes in, blatantly ignoring my obvious wish to be left alone. She sits down in one of the comfy armchairs but I’m refusing to look at her.

“Harvey. This has to stop.” Her voice sounds firm but kind.

I know what she means, and I know that she’s right, but I’m not quite there yet. I’m not willing to let go of hope.

“He’s out there somewhere.” I need to say it aloud, to remind myself that it’s the truth.

“As are 8.4 million other people. There’s no way to find him if he doesn’t want to be found.”

“He’s a bike messenger. And his name is Mike. That’s a start.”

Donna tries to reason with me. I don’t know why she still bothers. “And we’re still following this lead. Vanessa is using all of her contacts. She has been at it for weeks now. But I don’t even know if Mike is his real name.”

She scoots closer and lays her hand on my knee. I have to work hard to keep myself from snarling at her.

“I’m so sorry Harvey. I know I’ve screwed up and if I could go back in time and make this right I would, but I can’t. And watching you drinking yourself into a stupor every day, knowing it’s because of something I did, god Harvey, you’ve no idea how much that hurts.”

She sighs, trying to get her feelings back under control. After she’s taken a deep, shuddering breath, she continues.

“But this is not about me or what I’m feeling. It’s about you. You’re harming yourself and the longer this goes on the harder it will be for you to come back from it. I’m sorry but I think it is time for you to accept that we probably won’t find him.”

She’s a beta. She has no idea what she’s demanding.

When I finally meet her eyes, I can see the sorrow and pain in them. Okay, so maybe she has.

After my rut had slowly subsided, I was able to tell her my side of the story. I still remember how her face had gone through the motions until her expression finally stopped at utterly horrified when she understood her role in all of it. I haven’t told her what happened during my rut while I was with Scottie but I’m sure Scottie has put her in the loop. Ever since then, Donna is tiptoeing around me in the knowledge that it is her personal fault that I found my omega only to lose him again after these few precious moments I held him in my arms.

I have tried to show her that I’m not angry with her; that it’s not her fault, but I guess she knows I’m lying. And I know it’s unfair to hold her responsible. _I know that._ How could she have known that he is an omega? My omega? This boy, Mike, was using some sort of a masking agent to hide his scent and he has a dangerous job, so he surely tampered with his record, to be able to present himself as a beta. There’s no way a responsible alpha, even if they were just a legal guardian and not the bonded mate, would let an omega work as a bike messenger in New York City. I know, that under no circumstances could she have known that he was my omega and I really try to get over it. Maybe I will sometime. Until then, I’m drinking.

“Let’s give her a few more weeks,” I state, and my tone of voice makes it clear that my decision is final.

“I’ll go and tell Vanessa. You should get home, Harvey. You look dead on your feet.”

I just nod, knowing that she’s right. Lately I’m not sleeping all that well and when I do, I dream of him. I don’t know what’s worse. Lying in bed, tossing and turning and not getting any rest, or falling asleep and dreaming of him only to wake up to the harsh reality and lose him all over again.

I shoot a quick text to Ray and pack up my things. I will work from home for the rest of the day. At least this way I can drink and listen to my dad’s music and wallow in self-pity without anyone commenting on, or worse, pitying me for it.

When I finally enter my condo, I drop my things on the couch and go straight to my walk-in closet. I undress until I’m only in my boxers and then I put on the shirt. Even though it doesn’t smell of him anymore it is still the only connection I have left, and I wear it every night.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I’m a pathetic weakling and I should get a grip, making a start with throwing this sweat-stained and rumpled shirt in the washer, or better yet, in the trash. He is gone and I should finally learn to accept it.

Hell, only three weeks ago I was perfectly content with my life, quite sure that I would never find my mate and not willing to settle for okay when perfect was somewhere out there, waiting for me. Now I know that perfect is out there and he is most certainly not waiting for me.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the full-body mirror and I flinch. Is this really me?

I slowly venture closer, like something is drawing me to my reflection, and I force myself for the first time in weeks to really look at myself.

My body is still pretty much the same if not a little bit more toned and a little slimmer since running has become a new passion for me, along with the drinking and the other stuff while eating has lost its appeal. But my posture has changed remarkably and when my gaze travels upwards to my face I don’t recognize this tired, broken man. Gone is the cocky grin, the sparkle in the brown eyes and the self-assured pose of a guy who just knows that he is better than all the rest of them.

This sight finally manages to break through the armor of numbness, self-pity and denial that I have wrapped around myself in the last few weeks.

No. Donna is right. And Jessica. And Ray. This has to stop and I’m the only one who can make it stop.

But not yet. Not right now. I need one last night to say my goodbyes. One last night. I repeat the words aloud, as a promise to myself. I will give myself one more night of grieving, of drinking and wallowing and tomorrow I will call Vanessa and call the search for…him off. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want to be an omega and if I truly feel for him the way I claim I feel for him, I will learn to respect that and find a way to get on with my life.

On the way to the sofa I snatch the bottle of Macallan from my bar, along with a tumbler. I’m not yet at the stage where I drink straight from the bottle, and hopefully never will be.

I put my dad’s record on, sink down on the sofa and start drinking. In my mind’s eye I conjure up every one of these precious seconds I was allowed to be with him in minute detail. When I come to the part where Donna blinds me with the alpha-mace I start over at the beginning, from the moment I noticed the first faint whiff of him.

A few hours later I’m still at it but my bottle is empty and I know it’s time to go to bed. On my way over to the bedroom I pass by the kitchen and I yank my dress-shirt off and throw it in the trashcan. Then I stumble into my bedroom, sink down on the mattress, curl myself into a ball and weep until I finally fall asleep.

**********

Somehow, I still wake at my usual time at 6 a.m. but I write Donna a short text that I’m not coming in today. My hangover is epic and all I want are a few more hours sleep.

I’m more than grumpy when some time later I hear high heels clicking in staccato on my hardwood floor. Since my housekeeper isn’t in the habit of wearing heels, this racket must be caused by Donna, who is the only other person with a key.

I can hear her entering my bedroom, but I hope if I ignore her she will go away.

“Harvey, you need to get up.”

God, I hate how persistent she can be. I turn around and show her my back. “No, I don’t,” I mumble into my pillow.

Suddenly my bedroom is filled with golden sunlight when she opens the heavy and light tight bedroom curtains and slides one of the doors open to let some fresh air in. My headache spikes into a roaring agony.

“For heaven’s sake, Donna. Get out!”

“I can’t.” Her voice sounds odd and I’m immediately alarmed, but I’m still not convinced that this isn’t a ruse to get me out of bed.

“I have a hangover and my head is killing me.”

“I can smell that.” Her voice is bare of any judgement. She’s just stating a fact.

I turn around and finally face her, my eyes blinking rapidly in the bright light.

“I indulged in one more night of self-pity,” I try to justify the state I’m in. “I drank myself nearly sick and thought of him until I couldn’t think anymore. I threw the shirt out. There, I got it out of my system like you and Jessica and Ray told me to, over and over again. So now I need a few more hours to nurse my hangover and when I come in tomorrow you will have the old Harvey Specter back. And now leave me alone.”

Instead of being happy or at least content that I finally did what she told me to do, her expression grows only sadder and she sits down at the edge of the bed. When she touches my cheek, I know something has happened.

“I found him. And he needs you.”

Seven simple words that make my world spin out of control again.

**********

She refuses to tell me more before I shower and dress, and from the look in her eyes it’s easier to obey than to argue with her. It would just be a waste of time and energy.

When I come out of my bathroom, I throw on some jeans and a simple Henley shirt, quite sure that I’m not going to work today. I don’t shave either. My hands are too shaky for that.

I venture into the kitchen and a steaming cup of coffee is waiting for me, along with a banana, some juice and two Advil. Trust Donna to tend to my needs.

I sit down and take the first sip of coffee. It’s perfect but then, Donna knows exactly how I like my coffee.

Suddenly she grabs my hand and that’s when I know it must be bad.

“Okay, Donna. Please tell me.”

She squeezes my hand, takes a deep breath and dives right in. “He’s in a hospital but he will be okay. He has a broken leg and is bruised all over, but they are sure that he has no severe internal injuries.”

I’m confused. How can she know this?

“How did you find him?”

“They called the office. It seemed that he still had your business card in the pocket of his pants and they thought you might know who his legal guardian is.”

I briefly close my eyes and send a prayer of thanks to Lady Luck. He still had my card after more than 3 weeks. I open my eyes again and look at my assistant. I need to give her a raise for giving him my card. And maybe a new purse. 

“What did you tell them?”

“That you are out of office at the moment, but you would come by the hospital as soon as possible.”

I nod, feeling slightly dazed. Is this really true? But Donna wouldn’t lie to me. She knows it would destroy me. “Okay. I need to change. They expect to see a lawyer and not this mess.” I stand up and leave but at the doorframe to my bedroom I pause and look back at her still sitting at my kitchen island.

“Did they tell you his name?” I can hear the longing in my voice and so can Donna. Her eyes suddenly go all red and she sniffles a little. She stands up and closes the distance between us and before I can prevent it, she’s hugging me.

“His name is Mike Ross. Michael James Ross.”

**********

From what Donna tells me while I’m putting on my best suit, he’s been in the hospital for three days now. He was hit by a car in a hit-and-run accident and found unconscious in a side street in Brooklyn.

His driver’s license lists him as beta so the ambulance took him to a regular hospital to get him treated. But when his lab results didn’t add up and his condition worsened, they took more extensive blood-tests and discovered his true status. He has been brought to a different hospital now, one that specializes in the treatment of omegas, but he hasn’t gained consciousness yet although they have managed to stabilize him. While they searched his clothes for clues as to who might be responsible for him, they found the business card Donna has given him 3 weeks ago and they called the office.

During the drive to the hospital Donna urges me to eat the banana to fight my hangover. I chew mechanically and without tasting it. I know that I don’t really need it but like I said, contradicting her would only be a waste of energy. I’m stone cold sober now; have been from the moment she told me that she found him. And even though I know that my headache is still there, I can barely feel it anymore. All I can think of is that I will see him again. And this time I won’t let him go. Not ever again. And if he doesn’t want me…no, that’s not an option I will accept.

The endless floors are too white and brightly lit and the smell of disinfectant burns in my nose. Finally, we arrive at the right hospital ward. It’s the one for internal medicine and I look questioningly at Donna. I thought that he hadn’t suffered any internal injuries. She looks at me and just shrugs.

“I don’t know, Harvey,” she answers my unasked question. “Let’s find the doctor.”

A nurse is calling him for us, and he leads us into his office when he arrives. It’s small and cramped, full of books and anatomic models.

We sit down in the offered chairs in front of his desk and I can barely refrain from bouncing my leg. I don’t want to speak with the doctor. I want to see my omega. My…Mike.

Donna puts her hand on my knee like she can feel the tension radiating off me and her touch calms me down a bit.

“Mr. Specter, Miss Paulsen, I’m Doctor Miller. Can I offer you something to drink?”

I shake my head impatiently. “No, thank you. As you can imagine I’m pretty anxious to learn more about Mike’s condition.”

The smile he gives me doesn’t reach his eyes and he picks my business card up from his desk. It is grubby and wrinkled. Mike must have carried it around in his pocket all that time.

“Before I do that, may I ask how you are connected to Mike Ross?” His eyes are fixed firmly on my face, watching me cautiously and there’s this slight crease between his brows like he’s barely holding on to his composure.

I’ve thought about my response to this question on the whole drive over and there can only be one reply to it.

“He’s my omega,” I state simply, meeting his gaze as openly as I can.

His eyebrows raise up and I can see that he gnashes his teeth a little as if he is angry with me. A vein is starting to pulse at his temple and suddenly he stands up, now looming over us from behind his desk.

“Then I have to say that you have treated him abominably. I know that he is not your model omega, but for him to suffer such criminal neglect…shame on you. I will not let you anywhere near him while he is under my care and I will alert the authorities regarding your abuse of him.”

His fury is coming off him in waves now and I start smiling. I’m so relieved that there is another alpha fighting in Mike’s corner. I know I should be jealous, or offended by his assumptions but I’m just relieved.

“You misunderstand, Doctor Miller.” Donna jumps in and tries to defend my honor.

“I think not, Miss Paulsen. I know that Mike with his special abilities can be intimidating for an average alpha but to have him resort to such measures to get away from his alpha, his treatment must have been unbelievably bad indeed. You have no idea what the poor boy has suffered, how he has damaged himself just to avoid your boss.”

My smile only widens but then I suddenly get what the Doctor has just said.

“Damage? What kind of damage? And how do you know he’s special? Have you met him before?” All of a sudden my mind is filled with questions.

“That’s of no concern to you, Mr. Specter. I will move heaven and earth to protect Mike from you. I’ve let him down before, but not this time.” He’s almost yelling at me now and my confusion only grows.

Donna gets on her feet and smacks her palm on the desk.

“Time-out. Both of you.”

We both look at her like nanny has just threatened to put us in a corner. I’m used to Donna’s antics, but the doc just gapes helplessly at her, trying to process what’s happening. 

“Good. Now that there is some peace and quiet let me explain to you what Harvey meant when he said that Mike is his omega.”

She recaps my run-in with Mike from three weeks ago and the fall-out it had on me after he had vanished so completely from my life. I wince every now and then when she describes in minute detail in which state I have been and slowly the expression on the doc’s face turns from infuriated to mildly sympathetic.

When Donna is finished, I thank her with a nod and lean a little forward in my chair. I make sure to look at Doctor Miller, who sat back down during Donna’s explanation, straight in the eye before I open my mouth again.

“He is my omega. I’ve only held him in my arms for maybe 30 seconds but if there’s one thing I know with absolute certainty, it is that he… Mike is my true mate and I am his. I don’t know how he ended up the way he is now. I’ve no idea why he tries to pass for a beta or why he is in this state of neglect. But I do know that as soon as you have confirmed my claim with a blood test, I will file for his legal guardianship under section 4, paragraph 7 of the Omega Care Act so I can take care of him until we can get bonded. And I promise you on my honor as an alpha that I will care for him and keep him safe for the rest of his life. It nearly destroyed me when he vanished before and I will not let that happen again.”

His eyes are glued to mine while I give my little speech and I can see that he finally believes me.

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Alright. We can do the blood test right now if you like. And I’m sorry for my previous behavior. I know that Mike isn’t bonded. It shows in his bloodwork even through the amounts of suppressants he has in it. It’s just, I care for him too. More than for my other patients, to tell you the truth.”

I nod. By now I have understood that these two share a history.

“Care to explain how you know him?”

He stands up and gathers a syringe and some other medical supplies.

“Why don’t I do both?” he asks, and I shrug out of my jacket and fold up my right sleeve as an answer.

While he draws some blood, he tells me about his student days. Apparently, he made some money on the side by tutoring alpha and omega kids. And since he was studying sociology back then and was writing a paper on omega abilities and their role in a developing society, he had devised some sort of tests for adolescent alphas and omegas to assess their abilities in context to their predestined roles.

Turns out that at one time he was tutoring 10-year-old Mike in biology and chemistry, subjects that aren’t normally taught to omega kids. Dr. Miller had used Mike as one of his test subjects for his paper and discovered by accident that Mike had an utterly amazing and unique mind. Apparently, my omega has an eidetic memory and is a math genius to boot whereas in omega-friendly subjects he was merely average. Well, I never had a thing for stereotypes, but I guess this could make things a little complicated, but also very interesting.

The doctor tells us the story in a neutral tone of voice and tries to stick to the facts but I can see his feelings shining through when he describes how he tried to reason with Mike’s father to get permission to enroll the little boy in a special program for gifted omegas. And how broken this little boy was after overhearing his dad essentially calling him a sex-slave and not worthy of nurturing his mental abilities. I can feel white hot rage building up in my stomach when I picture the scene he describes and my hands ball into fists.

The doctor had left Mr. Ross’ office after the unsuccessful talk to discover little Mike sitting near the door on the floor, face streaked with tears. Apparently, the kid had listened at the door and overheard what his father really thought of him.

He tells us how he had gathered the kid into his arms, not able to soothe him or explain to him why his own father saw nothing more in him than a mindless sex-toy that would be pawned off to an influential alpha as soon as he reached sexual maturity. After that day, the doc hadn’t seen Mike for about a year. But one day the kid had suddenly appeared at his front door, asking if he could crash a few days on his couch. Doctor Miller had opened his door to him and after some careful appliance of hot cocoa, food and compassion Mike had told him what had happened in the last year.

At first his father had put him in a boarding school for omegas so Mike wouldn’t be under the influence of his misguided mother anymore. Needless to say, the kid had hated every day there and his omega skills weren’t improving either. Then something unexpected had happened. Mike’s parents had been killed in a fatal traffic accident and the kid had run away from school. Since Mike was an orphan now, and there was no money left for him since his father, owner of a building company, was in huge debt, a legal guardian from the state would have been appointed to take care of Mike. But before he got into the system, he had vanished without a trace, only to appear at Dr. Miller’s doorstep. But before the doc could make a plan for how to help the kid, he disappeared again, maybe sensing that Dr. Miller was planning something. And although the doc had searched the streets for him, willing to file for guardianship himself to help this little lost boy, he had never been able to find Mike again and had been too afraid to involve the authorities in the search. So, Mike had slipped through the cracks of the system, fending for himself since he was eleven years old. It is truly a miracle my omega is still alive. 

“You see, Mr. Specter,” the doc concludes his story, “I have failed Mike not only once but twice. And I’m not planning on failing him again. This time I will do everything in my power to make sure he is in a safe and healthy environment and that he can have the life he deserves. Not as a trophy for an alpha, but cherished and loved for the person he really is.”

I can hear in his voice that he really means it and that he will rip me to shreds if I hurt Mike in any way. Well, like I said earlier, I’m happy that Mike has another alpha besides myself fighting his corner.

When I glance over to Donna, I can see that her eyes are a little puffy and red and I’m sure so are mine.

When he’s finished the doc leaves us for a moment to take my blood to the lab while we battle with what we’ve just heard. When he comes back a few minutes later, he hands us both a cup of awful hospital coffee in mismatching and chipped mugs.

Donna and I take it nevertheless, if only so that our hands have something to occupy themselves with.

“So, what does all of this mean?” Donna finally asks when we have digested everything we’ve just heard.

Doctor Miller sits down behind his desk once more, takes a sip of coffee and makes a face at the sour taste before he pushes the mug away.

“It means that Mike is special. And not only because of his mind or his injuries, which are totally treatable by the way. I expect him to make a full recovery in a few weeks. But his emotional scars and the internal damage he has done to himself are much more severe.”

“I don’t care. I will do everything in my power to help him.”

“I’m sure that it’s your intention. But you have no idea what this will entail, Mr. Specter.”

“Then tell me.” I’m willing to bet my life on it that nothing he says will change my mind.

Donna suddenly reaches over and snatches up a notepad from the doctor’s desk.

“May I? I think it is best if I take some notes.”

I look at her, amazed that she can still think straight, and I briefly squeeze her hand in gratitude.

The doctor takes Mike’s chart and opens it to refresh his memory.

“From his lab results I can see that he has been on some sort of illegal suppressant, and not a good one at that. His hormones are all over the place which means that right now his body has no idea that he is an omega. For all it knows he could be a puppy. The glands in his neck and his reproductive organs are underdeveloped and I’ve no idea if they are even functional. Maybe he will never bounce back, with his body remaining unable to produce the right amount of hormones he needs to be healthy, on its own. There are substitutes for this, but they can only do so much. This means he is not only most likely infertile but maybe even unable to produce natural lubricant or have a heat. It also means that his libido is extremely low right now and probably has been for a while. I’m not even sure if he ever had a sexual experience of any kind.” He consults the chart once more.

“He is also severely malnourished. That’s why he is so small and thin, even for an omega. He is 22 by the way, even though he looks more like 16. But as with his physical problems, all of this is treatable, up to a certain point at least. The bigger challenge will be to heal his emotional scars. You see Mr. Specter, Mike doesn’t want to be an omega. It represents everything that he hates. Because of his genetic status all of his potential is wasted, and I can understand why he wanted to fight his destiny. I tried to change things for omegas like him with my research but when nobody cared about my findings and the university stopped the funding, I decided to change specialties and became a medical doctor instead. Now I can help omegas in a different way, but at least I can help them.”

I can see why the doctor is so concerned and I’m glad that he doesn’t try to sugarcoat things. I need to know what I’m getting myself into but there’s still only one possible response to all of this.

“What do we do to help him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you want to let me know what you're thinking, please drop me a comment.   
> Take care and stay safe.


	8. Mike's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike finally wakes up and finds his world changed. How will he react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and the kudos so far. It's a joy to write for you.  
> Once again my beta-reader, the lovely Tara_Beth, has worked her magic and cleaned up as much of my mistakes as she could. All mistakes left in there are due to some last minute changes and therefore completely on me. 
> 
> I don't really know much about triggers, but this chapter contains a lot of angst and a panic-attack on Mike's side but I guess this is only natural if you wake up and learn that your cover has been blown. I just wanted to give you a friendly warning, just in case. 
> 
> Mike's chapter is really short this time, but that's only because he is asleep for most of the time anyway.

I can feel that I’m not alone. I hear paper rustling, like someone is turning the page of a book. I try to open my eyes but my eyelids are too heavy. Everything around me is warm and soft and I’m so damn tired so I let myself sink back into the darkness of sleep.

The next time I wake I can open my eyes at least a little bit. It’s dark in the room I’m in but to my left there’s some light, casting everything in this room into a mix of twilight and shadows. I try to turn my head in that direction and suddenly a figure rises up beside me and I can feel a cool hand on my forehead, softly stroking my skin. It feels really nice.

The person next to me is cast in the shadows since the light source is now behind them. The outlines are fuzzy and I can’t even tell if it’s a man or a woman. I try harder to turn my head but suddenly there’s pain everywhere and a whimper escapes my lips. It’s unnaturally loud in this quiet room.

“Shhh, darling. You’re safe now. Everything will be alright.”

I recognize the voice as male and I think I’ve heard it before, but I don’t know where.

I’m still trying to turn my head in the direction of this person and the hand on my forehead slips down to my cheek and helps me. I blink my eyes rapidly, but my vision is still blurred.

Suddenly a door opens, and quick steps approach the bed I’m lying in. Why am I lying in a bed? And where am I? And who are these people?

The faint beeping, up until now only background noise, gets quicker and quicker and suddenly the hand cupping my cheek is gone. The figure of the man retreats, and a new figure appears in my line of sight.

Once again, a hand is placed on my forehead and this time a thumb pulls my eyelid up. A bright light pierces my cornea and I groan when a spike is driven into my brain.

“Nurse. Little bit more of the painkillers I think. 5 cc should suffice for now. And hang another bag of the ringer with the neutralizing agent while you’re at it. This one is almost empty. We need to flush this stuff out of his system.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Okay. So, it seems I’m in a hospital. I try to remember what has happened but there’s only darkness. This must be the first time in my life my memory fails me.

My other eyelid is lifted, and the next spike of pure agony is hammered into my brain. Fuck! That really hurts.

“Mike, look at me.” The voice is different this time and it holds a new urgency. I try to shut my eyes again but now two hands are softly cradling my face.

“Mike, you need to stay awake for a minute here, buddy. Come on. Open your eyes again and look at me. Harvey, turn on the lights please.”

One of the hands slips down and covers my eyes but I can still see it when the big lights in the room are turned on. He gives me a moment to get used to the light until he takes his hand away again to cup my cheek.

I shift my gaze onto his face and it slowly swims into focus. Wait. I know this guy. But it doesn’t make any sense.

“Martin?”

I’m sure I must be dreaming. The last time I’d seen Martin Miller I was 11 years old. Then I realize that he looks older. There’s even some gray in his hair. 

Suddenly he grins at me and his kind eyes are sparkling with joy. He looks at me like he used to do when I crushed one of his tests.

“Yes, Mike. It’s me.”

“So tired,” I mumble. It seems that turning my head and looking at him has used up all of my strength.

“That’s okay Mike. You can go back to sleep now. You’re safe. Harvey and I will take good care of you.”

Behind his shoulder I can see another tall man hovering, but I can’t really make out his face. There’s something seriously wrong with my eyes and I close them. The moment everything is dark again my headache vanishes.

A warm feeling envelopes me, but suddenly it hits me. Who’s Harvey? Before I can figure it out, dark nothingness drags me down again and I tumble back into blessed sleep.

**********

The next time I wake up I’m alone and it is day. There’s still the faint beeping noise but this time it’s slow and steady. I turn my head and wait for the pain but it doesn’t come, so I look around to see where I am.

I already know that I’m in a hospital. And I can remember that somehow my old tutor, Martin Miller, is my doctor. Or was that a dream?

A monitor is standing to my right, displaying a glowing line and every time the line spikes I can hear a faint beep. Okay. So I’m connected to a heart monitor. There’s also an IV pole holding a large bag of clear liquid. I look down at myself and can see some cables and tubes coming out from under the sheet that is covering me. The line that comes out of the fluid bag is connected to the back of my right hand and the fluid is dripping in a steady stream into the line. Probably ringer solution to keep me hydrated. Further down I see that my left leg is in a plaster cast, resting slightly elevated on some sort of support and there’s a white sock on my foot to keep my toes warm. So, somehow I’ve managed to break my leg. I try to wiggle my toes and to my relief the sock moves a little. Okay, probably not too bad, then.

I continue with my inspection of the room. To my left there’s a visitor’s chair and on this chair is a big leather purse. The edge of a book is poking out of the purse, but I can’t read the title. It looks like I have a female visitor who just stepped out for a bit.

I’m the only patient in this room, which is a little odd though, and suddenly I start worrying how to pay for all of this. I don’t have health insurance. But surely, they must know that. Maybe Martin has pulled some strings. If it really was Martin Miller. I’m still not convinced about that.

I try to lift my head a little more off my pillow but I’m pretty much flat on my back and I can’t find the strength to sit up. There must be one of those remote control thingies to operate the bed somewhere.

I fumble around a little but before I can find it, the door opens and a red-haired woman in jeans and a yellow blouse comes in. She’s surprised when she realizes that I’m awake.

I think I’ve seen her somewhere before, but my memory still isn’t up to speed.

“You’re awake!”

Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious, Lady.

She ventures nearer and takes hold of my hand, the left one without the IV-line. Without thinking I squeeze back, thankful for the comforting touch, and she smiles at me. She has a nice smile.

“Hi Sweetie. How do you feel?”

 _Sweetie, huh?_ Okay, at least she’s friendly. 

“I don’t know really. What happened? And who are you? I think I know you, but I can’t remember how.”

So many questions fill my head now that I feel a little better.

The woman picks up the remote I was searching for and I finally come in a more upright position.

I lick my lips, suddenly aware how thirsty I am, and she picks up on that.

“Let me get you something to drink. You must be really thirsty.” She presses a button on the remote control and only seconds later a nurse pokes her head through the door of my room.

“Look who’s finally awake, Lydia.” The redhead sounds really happy.

The nurse smiles at me and comes closer. She’s young and from her behavior I can tell that she’s an omega. There’s nothing threatening or intimidating about her.

“Hi Mike. So good to see you up.” Her hand brushes over my forehead, taking my body-temperature while she looks at the heart monitor and then checks on the IV-line.

“Where am I?” I ask her since the other woman hasn’t answered any of my questions so far.

“Mount Sinai’s Hospital for Omegas. Don’t worry Mike. You’re in good hands with us.”

I can feel the blood draining out of my face and suddenly the beeping of the heart monitor increases.

“I’m not an omega.”

I can see in her young face that she immediately realizes her mistake. Her hands are back on my face, but I try to shake her off. I must leave this place. Right now. Before they alert the authorities. And then it hits me. Martin Miller knows the truth about me. Oh my god. I need to leave.

“I’m not an omega.” It’s all I can say, over and over again, while I try to push myself off the bed. I can’t think straight. All I know is that I must flee. I must get out of here.

The nurse and the other woman are trying to hold me down on the bed and in my attempt to fight them off, my fingers get caught in the IV-line and I rip it out of my hand. Suddenly there’s blood everywhere and a sharp pain blooms in my hand. The heart monitor is giving off a cacophony of shrill whistles but I’m still fighting to get out of bed.

The door opens and two men rush in. One of them is Martin and I’m sure that I’ve seen the other one somewhere too, but that’s not important right now.

Martin rushes over to the nurse while I lose sight of the other guy.

“No. Let me go. I’m not an omega.” I know that I’m fighting a losing battle, but I can’t stop. Maybe if Martin sees that I don’t want this, he will have pity and let me go.

Martin tries to grab my bleeding hand, but I yank it away. The loud noise of the monitor stops suddenly and in the silence, I can hear how loud my own breath is. I know that I’m close to hyperventilating, but I just can’t get enough air into my lungs. My chest feels impossible narrow, like someone is crushing it. Maybe I’m having a heart attack.

Somehow, I’ve managed to sit up and I try to swivel my legs sideways but the plaster cast is so damn heavy and there’s an odd tugging at my penis. I’ve no idea what this is about but before I can look down there, two strong hands grab me from behind and push my body back on the mattress. The face of the other guy comes into my line of sight and I know that I’ve seen those warm golden-brown eyes somewhere before. I can feel how Martin pushes my legs back into the bed and there’s this weird tugging again. It doesn’t really hurt but it’s uncomfortable as hell.

While Martin is working on my legs, the other guy uses his bodyweight to push my shoulders down but somehow, I’m still managing to struggle weakly against him.

“Harvey. His neck.”

I don’t understand what Martin means until one of the guy’s hands leave my left shoulder and the fingers slip to the scruff of my neck. When they press down at this particular spot at the base of my skull, my muscles suddenly go limp. _Oh no!_

“No!” I wail and tears fill my eyes. I know that there’s nothing I can do anymore, but I still beg and plead with the two alphas. “Please, just let me go. Please, please, let me go.”

The guy’s other hand lets go of my shoulder and cradles my face, forcing me to look at him. Then he bends forward and presses his forehead against mine.

“It’s okay, Mike. You’re safe. Stop fighting, baby. You’re safe with me,” he whispers softly to me in an attempt to soothe my panic while his dark eyes hold mine in thrall.

Suddenly I recognize him. I should have realized who he was when I first heard his name. That’s the alpha who attacked me on the street. And now he’s telling me that I’m safe with him?

A sharp pain in my hand snaps me out of this train of thought and I hiss in protest and press my eyes shut.

“Sorry, Mike. You have a little tear in your skin where you yanked the needle out. I need to keep pressure on it until the bleeding stops.” Martin explains to me what he’s doing in this calming voice of his. I remember it from the time when he was my tutor.

“Lydia, can you prepare a shot of phenobarbital for Mike, please. Smallest dosage.”

Wait. What? I know that phenobarbital is a sedative. I don’t want to go back to sleep.

“No, please don’t. I don’t want to.” I’m sobbing now but I can’t help it. I hate feeling his helpless.

“Shhhh, baby. It’s okay. It will help you calm down. And when you wake up again, I will be here.”

I can feel the sting of the needle in my right upper arm. Immediately afterwards, everything becomes blurry again. I fight to keep my eyes open, but my eyelids are like lead.

The alpha with the warm-golden eyes presses a kiss on my forehead.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’m here to keep you safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading.


	9. Harvey's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey and Donna learn a little more about Mike's condition and what needs to be done in order to help him. When Mike finally wakes up things get really complicated. But thankfully, Harvey has Donna and Dr. Miller on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and the kudos so far. It's a joy to write for you.  
> Once again my beta-reader, the lovely Tara_Beth, has worked her magic and cleaned up as much of my mistakes as she could. All mistakes left in there are due to some last minute changes and therefore completely on me. 
> 
> I don't really know much about triggers, but this chapter contains a lot of angst and a panic-attack on Mike's side but I guess this is only natural if you wake up and learn that your cover has been blown. I just wanted to give you a friendly warning, just in case.

After I have convinced Doctor Miller that I’m all in and that Donna is part of my support group, he finally agrees to take us to Mike. Maybe he realizes that there’s nothing he can say to make me reconsider.

But when we finally arrive at the patient’s room, my steps falter slightly now that the moment is here although just a moment ago, I didn’t want to wait another second to see him. I hesitate at the threshold, afraid that I might wake up from this dream but then Donna gives me a surreptitious little push. Normally I would scold her for it, but I’m secretly glad she did it, so I just ignore it.

My very first impression of my omega is, that he looks very small and pale. Which is normal, I think. He is an omega after all, and he just had a traffic accident. But when I venture slowly nearer, Donna still slightly prodding me in the back, I can see how slender his body is, even when covered by the light blue sheets, and his face looks not only unnaturally pale but the bones of his skull are shining through the taut skin. Patches of golden-blond stubble grow irregularly on his cheeks and jaw, more of a peach fuzz than a real beard, but even if he weren’t looking like a famine victim, I could’ve mistaken him for a teenager. Now I understand what the Doctor meant when he described Mike’s malnutrition and suddenly there’s a lump in my throat. I desperately try to swallow down again. To distract me a little, I look at the rest of the room with all the equipment that keeps him alive. He is hooked up to a heart monitor which is beeping in time with his heartbeat and an IV-line is connected to his right hand and constantly depositing some clear fluid into his body.

The Doctor is standing at the right side of his bed and when he places a hand on my omega’s forehead, I want to snarl at him. He catches the expression on my face and smiles unperturbed.

“Easy Mr. Specter. I’m only making sure he isn’t running a fever.” But then his brows knit together, and he flips his hand around, now its backside on Mike’s forehead.

“Hm, don’t do that to me, kid,” he mumbles more to himself than to Donna and me.

“What’s up?” I step closer, clutching the rail at the foot end of the bed in a white knuckle grip to hold onto something, anything, and the doctor nods at me reassuringly.

“You can hold his hand, Mr. Specter. He’s still unconscious but maybe he will feel your touch.”

His own hand dips into his lab-coat pocket to retrieve an electric thermometer while I carefully take Mike’s slender fingers in my hand. They feel hot to my touch and I’m not exactly a cold-hands kinda guy.

Doctor Miller puts a fresh thingy on the tip of the thermometer-sensor and inserts it carefully into Mike’s ear. It beeps after only a few seconds.

“103°F. That’s a little higher than I would like.” He puts the thermometer away, turns to the IV-pole and fiddles with the fluid bag hanging there.

“I’m opening up his line to maximum. That should help with his temperature,” he explains to Donna and me.

“Can’t you give him some medicine?” I know that I probably shouldn’t question him in his special field but just giving Mike more fluids seems like not enough to me.

He gives me a reassuring half-smile, clearly used to dealing with anxious family members. And Mike is now part of my family, official or not. I can’t help how I feel about him.

“Why don’t you sit down Mr. Specter?” He points at the two visitor’s chairs on the left side of the bed and I take the closer one while I keep clutching Mike’s hot fingers in my hand. Donna sits down in the other. I know that there’s no way she would leave my side right now.

The doctor grabs Mike’s chart from the foot of his bed and consults it briefly before he snaps it shut again.

“Right now, we’re giving him a ringer solution with some nutrients and a neutralizing agent to get rid of the suppressants. He’s also getting some really good painkillers.” He gestures down to Mike’s leg. A white cast envelopes it from right below his knee down to his foot. Only his toes are left uncovered and I can see that his toenails are a little too long and slightly ragged.

“Luckily for Mike, it was a pretty straightforward fracture. There was no bone-displacement so the only thing we needed to do was straighten his leg and put a cast on him. But you probably should see the rest of his body, so you understand.”

He comes over to our side of the bed and carefully peels the blue blanket away. Then he flips the hospital gown up and exposes half of Mike’s slender body to our eyes.

Next to me, Donna gasps in shock and I almost do the same.

I can see every single one of his bones on his torso and his protruding hipbone is only covered by a layer of pale skin. Only his thigh muscles seem a little bit better developed although his legs are still thin as matchsticks. Mike’s stomach is almost concave it’s so sunken in. There’s not an ounce of fat on this frail body. I can see his little penis resting on his scrotum, framed by his thin legs, and there’s a thin tube coming out of the tip and vanishing somewhere between the sheets. Belatedly I understand that all the fluids they pump into his body must come out again somewhere.

But his bony, malnourished body or the urinary catheter are not the reason for Donna’s gasp. No. Mike’s whole left side is colored in shades of dark purple and blue with a slight greenish tint on the outlying regions. The kid is one big bruise. The doctor lets the gown and blanket sink back to cover my omega’s body.

“As you can see, the car hit Mike at the left side of his body. He has also some bruises and scrapes on the right side, but they are not nearly as bad as this. His bike-helmet saved his life.”

Donna perks up at that. “He wore a helmet? Really?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t have survived without one. The ambulance took it with them when they brought him in. The shell was broken in several places. His skull would’ve cracked like a nut without it.”

“I told him to buy a helmet when I gave him the money. And food. I said he should buy some food.”

I reach over to her and squeeze her hand. She might have saved my omega’s life with her suggestion.

“So, he doesn’t have any head injuries?” I ask hopefully.

The doctor shakes his head slightly. “It’s not that easy. He still has a major concussion. See, when he landed on the street, although the helmet protected his skull on the outside, his brain still bounced around inside his skull pretty hard. But there’s no sign of any bleeding or extensive swelling. His brain is a little bruised but that’s normal. He might have some memory loss when he wakes up, but there shouldn’t be any other problems. We still need to monitor him closely, keep tabs on his pupils and other reflexes, but right now everything seems okay so far.”

“Then why is he still unconscious?”

He sits down on the edge of the mattress, his left hand resting lightly on the plaster cast but when he meets my gaze, he hastily retrieves it. Yeah, I can’t help it that I feel a little possessive about Mike. Luckily for me, the doc seems to understand and isn’t offended. I guess he’s used to dealing with overprotective alphas.

“Because his body needs to save energy. You see Mr. Specter, right now he’s burning through huge amounts of his resources to heal himself. We help him with this where we can, but he still does most of the work. His elevated temperature is actually part of that, so we don’t want to suppress it. It’s a way of his body to get rid of the chemicals, so we only monitor it to make sure his fever doesn’t get too high, but we don’t want to suppress it altogether. As you can see, we provide him with a lot of fluids to keep him well hydrated and tonight we will start to tube-feed him through a nasogastric tube. We also try to help neutralize all the remaining suppressants in his body. Once his hormones have balanced out, he should slowly get better. But everything we’re doing to help him puts a strain on his body. Plus, he is in pain, or he will be when he wakes up. So right now, I’m not exactly worried that he still hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

“You’re saying it’s a good thing that he’s still sleeping?” Donna asks to clarify.

“Exactly. He isn’t really in a coma because there’s no organic reason for him to be unconscious. It’s more like a deep sleep. His body is saving energy since he’s running a little low right now. And while he’s sleeping, his brain can heal the slight damage the concussion has done even better. Once his healing is a little more advanced and all the bad chemicals have left his body, he should wake up on his own.”

This makes sense to me. “And the tube-feeding?”

“Normally a human being can go several days without food if we provide enough liquids with the right nutrients. But you’ve seen how skinny he is. There are simply no reserves he has to spare so we need to make up for that.”

I sit there, watching Mike’s face while I run my thumb in slow circles over the back of his hand. There’s some dirt underneath his fingernails and they’re a little on the long side too. But proper grooming can wait. First, we need to get him back on his feet.

On a whim, I lift his hand, bring his hot and sweaty palm up to my nose and inhale deeply. I’m not in rut anymore and with all the chemical smells in the room and the suppressants in his blood I’m not able to scent him properly from where I’m sitting and I’m too worried about hurting him to push my nose into his neck where his scent might be strongest. I close my eyes to better concentrate and there it is. It’s faint, still slightly wrong and mixed with my own scent, but it is there. The smell that reminds me of sunshine and happiness. I place his hand back on the blue blanket, very careful to not squeeze it too hard but I keep my eyes fixed down onto my lap. I don’t want them to see me fight my tears.

I knew that he was my omega but to smell him again, to confirm it once more, is just such a relief.

I only look up when a nurse comes into the room. She hands the doctor a clipboard and he studies it for a second. Then he looks at me and this time his smile reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle.

“Congratulations Mr. Specter. Now it’s official. You’re Mike’s alpha.”

As if I hadn’t known before. But I still smile back at him.

**********

Donna offers to stay with Mike while Ray drives me to the firm. I don’t want to leave him, but she manages to convince me that I need Jessica’s support for this. From what Doctor Miller has told me, I will need time off work to take proper care of Mike when he’s finally healthy enough to be released into my care. And there are some legal things I need to take care of as well.

I sit on Jessica’s couch with her sitting in an armchair opposite me. Normally I would’ve crossed my legs and leaned back, a picture of confidence and calm. But not today. I sit on the edge and can barely refrain from bouncing my leg while I wring my hands nervously.

If Jessica isn’t willing to support me, I’m prepared to quit. I’ve thought about it on the way over and I’m sure about this. Mike is my number one priority and he will need time to heal and to settle into his new life.

Jessica looks at me with her sphinxlike gaze and I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office although it was me who requested this meeting.

“I’m all ears, Harvey,” she prompts me to begin when the silence stretches for too long.

“Has Donna told you that we found my omega…Mike?” Jessica already knows everything about my little run-in with him and the effect it had on me. There’s not much she doesn’t know about her co-workers and employees. 

She nods earnestly and gives me her sincerest look. “Of course. She put me in the loop as soon as she got the call from the hospital.”

I’m not sure if I should be glad about that or question Donna’s loyalties. But before I can decide, Jessica stands up and sits down next to me. She doesn’t touch me, but I know her presence is meant to comfort, not to intimidate. I can feel how she radiates calm and my nervousness quiets down a bit.

“How is he, Harvey? Will he be okay?” There’s real concern in her voice and although I know it is more about me than him, I’m grateful. Maybe I won’t have to hand in my resignation after all.

I tell her everything I’ve learned about Mike’s condition and about the things that need to be done in order to get him better.

“I need to be there for him, Jessica. 24/7 in the beginning at least. I don’t know yet how long it will take. There’s no timeline for this.”

She nods her head. “That’s okay, Harvey. If it were Kyle…,” she trails off, most likely thinking about her own omega. I’ve met him once at an official function and although he’s cocky and a little arrogant, he had seemed devoted to her – and she to him. Then she gets a grip on her feelings. “If it were Kyle I would do the same. We’ll figure something out. Maybe you can work from home, do some of the paperwork and leave the client-meetings to someone else.”

I’m so relieved that I can feel how the tension leaves my shoulders and I exhale audibly.

“Thanks, Jessica. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She just smiles warmly at me. “It’s okay Harvey. I’d rather not lose you to the firm entirely. And from the look on your face when you just came into my office, I know that you were prepared to quit, if need be.”

There’s no sense in denying it.

She stands up to make a phone call and a few minutes later Louis joins us. We work in the same field, mostly clients who have a high net-worth and are high-maintenance, and although I can’t stand him, I know that he will be able to provide my clients with an adequate service. He will of course try to take some or all of them over, but this can’t be helped. Mike is more important to me than keeping my clients.

We make a list of all my pending cases and for a few hours we work in harmony to make the transition as smooth as possible. Donna will provide Jessica and Louis with all the necessary information and I agree to be second counselor on the cases I can work from home or the hospital. Since we have no idea when Mike will wake up, I have some spare time to kill anyway. And it’s better to work than to worry myself sick over his condition.

Louis finally leaves us and when I see that we’re now nearing the afternoon I get nervous again. I know it isn’t likely that Mike will wake up anytime soon, but I can’t wait to get back to him.

“Have you filed for guardianship yet?” Jessica wants to know, and it reminds me that I need to make a trip to the courthouse before I can get back to the hospital.

“No, not yet. I will stop by the court after we’re done here.”

“Why don’t you leave that to me, Harvey? I can deal with the paperwork for you.”

I’m still hesitant to take her up on that offer for she will most likely assign an associate to do it and I don’t trust them to wipe their asses without supervision, much less file the most important document in my life.

“I will do it myself to make sure that there are no hiccups,” she assures me, sensing the reason for my reluctance.

I nod relieved since I know how slow the clerks at the courthouse normally are and I really want to get back to Mike.

“That’s great Jessica. I owe you for this.”

She quirks her eyebrow up. “Only for this?” But I can see she’s only joking.

I reach into the inner pocket of my jacket to retrieve the lab results. She will need them to file for my guardianship to prove that we’re well matched and will become bonded eventually.

I swear that when she reads the percentage of compatibility, her mouth gapes open, if only slightly.

“98.7 %?” She can’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

I just nod. That’s how I felt when Doctor Miller showed me the results. I knew before that we must be a high match but something like this normally doesn’t happen.

“I know.” I can’t keep the smugness out of my voice. That is, until she comes over and traps me in a firm hug.

“Congratulations, alpha!”

**********

The next couple of days Donna, Doctor Miller – Martin, and I settle in some sort of a routine. Most of the time I’m staying in Mike’s room, working on some boring paperwork that Donna provides me with when she relieves me every two days or so, so I can get home to shower and change my clothes. When I’m not working, I watch Mike’s face for any indication that he’s waking up or I doze sitting in the visitor’s chair. Sometimes Martin joins me after his shift and we slowly become friends. He tells me more about the boy my omega had once been and the more I learn about Mike’s father the more I can understand why he did what he did.

His life could have been so different if his father just had shown him some understanding and support. But it is of no use to dwell on it now. The damage is done, and we need to look forward.

Two days later I’m reading some briefs in the low light of the bedside table. It’s very late, or very early, depending on which side of sleep you look at it. Mike is sleeping safe and sound in his bed and I’m glad to see that his face has finally lost this starved look. I can still see the bones of his skull shine through his skin, but his cheeks seem to be a little bit fuller and he’s not so pale anymore. His natural skin tone is still fair, but it has lost the greyish tint. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking but one can hope.

Mike gets his high caloric food every 6 hours through his nasogastric tube and his vital signs have improved noticeably. His heartbeat is a little stronger and steadier and the fever is finally gone. There are still some traces of suppressants in his blood, but the huge quantities of neutralizers finally have been able to make a sizeable dent in them. He must’ve been on these chemicals for a long time.

I’ve just finished reading a paragraph of the brief and look up at him when I notice that his eyelids are fluttering. I keep watching him. This has happened before and every time it did, his eyes have closed again. This time though, they stay open and he moans softly, like he is in pain.

I stand up and push the button on the remote control of the bed to alert Martin. He is on duty tonight and if Mike is really waking up, he needs to know. Then I place a hand on Mike’s forehead so he can feel that he’s not alone. His head shifts a little on the pillow like he’s trying to turn it to the side but then he whimpers.

“Shhh, darling. You’re safe now. Everything will be alright,” I try to reassure him.

Maybe the light hurts his eyes. I put my body between the lamp and him and guide his head to the side with a palm on his cheek. He rapidly blinks up at me, but the gaze of the intense blue eyes is unfocused.

Martin arrives and when I look at him, he understands immediately what’s happening without me needing to spell it out for him.

The heart-monitor beeps a little faster now and I make room for Martin so he can do his thing.

I hover at the foot-end of the bed and watch him like a hawk. The nurse comes in and when he tells her to give my omega some painkillers and replace the bag of fluids, she obeys immediately.

He has looked into Mike’s eyes and studied the reaction of his pupils to the light. Now he holds Mike’s face in his hands while he talks to him. The boy is still making soft mewling noises like he’s hurting, and I ball my hands into fists. I feel so helpless right now but I know that I can’t interfere. Martin is taking care of my omega and I need to hang back for now.

He tells Mike to look at him, but the eyelids begin to flutter again, like he’s on the brink of sleep.

“Mike, you need to stay awake for a minute here, buddy. Come on. Open your eyes again and look at me. Harvey, turn on the lights please.”

Even I can hear the urgency in the doc’s voice, and I can see in Mike’s face how he’s struggling to obey. I can see Martin covering Mike’s eyes with one of his hands before I switch on the big lights in the room. His other hand is still cupping Mike’s face and I can see that his thumb is caressing the stubbly cheek in an attempt to comfort him. After a few moments he uncovers Mike’s eyes and they blink open.

“Martin?” Mike’s voice is so very low, only a hoarse whisper but it is enough to make the Doc and me smile.

“Yes, Mike. It’s me,” he confirms, happy that Mike is finally lucid.

The boy mumbles something I don’t understand but Martin is nodding his head while he still holds Mike’s face cradled in his hands.

“That’s okay Mike. You can go back to sleep now. You’re safe. Harvey and I will take good care of you.” I’m happy that he includes me and tells my omega I’m here.

I come nearer and stand slightly behind Martin now. Maybe Mike will be able to see me. But before he can focus on me, his eyelids drop shut and from the way his faces relaxes in Martins grip I know he has gone back to sleep.

Martin carefully lets go of his head, making sure that it rests comfortably on the pillow. Then he fiddles a bit with all the tubes that are coming out of my omegas body. There are so many of them. The feeding tube, the IV-line, the tube from his catheter and the wires that connect him to the heart-monitor.

When Martin finally turns around, he looks at me with a wide smile and I can feel my lips quirk up in response.

“That was a good start,” he states. “He will be out again for a couple of hours. Let’s have a celebratory coffee to commemorate this milestone.”

I nod my agreement but then I hesitate. His excitement is contagious, but I need a moment alone with Mike.

It’s as if he can read my mind. “Take your time, Harvey. I’ll wait for you in my office.”

As soon as I’m alone I bend over my omega and press my nose against his neck. His scent gets stronger every day and I like to revel in it. It’s more intoxicating than the finest Scotch. After a few deep breaths I straighten up and press a kiss on his forehead.

“Welcome back, baby.”

**********

I write Donna a short text to put her in the loop about Mike’s progress, but I don’t expect her to show up at the hospital at 7 a.m.

“Go home, Harvey. You look like shit.” Only she is allowed to talk to me that way and she knows it.

Doesn’t mean that I can’t talk back at her, though. “I can’t. He might wake up any minute now.”

She shakes her head, knowing full well that Martin has told me Mike will probably sleep for a day or so after his early morning wake-up.

“You don’t want him to see you like this,” she states, trying to appeal to my vanity and I hate to admit it, but it works.

When he finally wakes up for good, I want him to find me attractive. And right now, I’m anything but.

So I grudgingly obey her and let Ray take me home so I can get a few hours of proper sleep in a bed as well as a shower and shave. Before I go though, I need to make sure that Mike is okay. Donna has taken my place in the visitor’s chair and is reading a book to Mike. After a few moments I recognize it as “The Hobbit.” When she sees me hovering at the door, she shoos me away with a gesture of her hand and I go to meet Ray outside.

A few hours later I’m back at the hospital. It’s a little after 3 p.m. and I’ve managed 6 hours of sleep in an actual bed as well as some time for personal grooming.

When I write to Donna that I’m on my way back to the hospital she assures me that Mike is still sleeping. I know that Martin’s shift has started at 3 p.m. so I make my way over to his office first, to learn about the newest developments regarding Mike’s condition.

His latest lab-results are in and Martin goes over them with me, explaining everything. Suddenly his beeper sounds an alarm. When he looks down at the message his eyes go wide, and I know that it’s about Mike and I surge to my feet before he can say a word.

We run along the corridors and can hear the shouting when we’re still 2 doors away.

“Not an omega!”

Shit! Mike sounds so agitated and frightened.

“Calm down, Sweetie!” I hear Donna say over his loud wails and then Martin and I finally arrive at the room.

A nurse and Donna are struggling with Mike. He has somehow managed to sit up and is trying to swing his legs out of bed but he is slowed down by the cast and the blanket and the tube of his catheter that are all tangled up between his legs.

There are red blood stains all over the blue blanket and the heart-monitor is giving of a deafening screech. _Oh my god! Where is he bleeding from?_

When the nurse sees us approach, she makes room for Martin while I dart over to Donna’s side and she hastily jumps out of the way.

I manage to grab Mike by the bony shoulders and yank him back into bed, pressing his upper body down into the mattress. He’s still screaming and crying and pleading with us, repeating over and over that he is not an omega and it breaks my heart to see him frightened and panicked like this.

I need to be his alpha, to show him that he is safe and loved. But for a moment I freeze and just gaze down at him while he still struggles weakly against my hands, too caught up in my feelings to do anything else but lean down on him.

“Harvey. His neck.”

Martin’s instruction snaps me out of it and after a moment of confusion I understand what he means. There’s this pressure point at most omegas’ necks which will make them relax when pressure is applied to it. It’s a little like the Vulcan nerve pinch of Mr. Spock and normally it is considered bad form for an alpha to do it to an un-bonded omega. It’s meant only as a last resort, to calm an agitated omega down. 

My right hand lets go of Mike’s shoulder and slips back to the base of his skull. I’m very careful when I press down with one fingertip. He seems so frail to me. But the pressure is still strong enough since he suddenly goes limp. Only his eyes grow wider, his pupils now blown wide with the release of all the adrenalin into his bloodstream.

“No!” His wail is so pitiful, and I can see how his eyes fill with tears when he realizes that he is helpless to us. But he still tries to talk his way out of this, still trying to fight, if only with words.

“Please, just let me go. Please, please, let me go.”

I cup his face in my hands and press my forehead against his, filling his whole line of sight with my face. I hope he will be able to scent me, at least a little bit. I’ve deliberately left off my aftershave so nothing masks my natural scent. His eyes grow even bigger when I’m all of a sudden so close to him. 

“It’s okay, Mike. You’re safe. Stop fighting baby. You’re safe with me,” I whisper softly to him in an attempt to soothe his growing panic while I hold his gaze with mine. Suddenly the expression in his eyes changes a tiny bit and recognition flickers in them. Could it be that he remembers me? I’m not sure if I dare to hope.

But then he gives of a high-pitched yelp and presses his eyes shut like he is in pain. Tears spill out between his eyelids, moistening his impossible long dark-blond lashes and flow down his cheeks, wetting my hands in the process.

Martin immediately apologizes and explains to him, and me, what the pain in his hand means. That when he has ripped his IV-line out, he tore his skin and that’s why he’s hurting and bleeding. Now I finally know where all the blood is coming from and I’m relieved that it isn’t anything more serious.

Then Martin asks the little omega nurse to prepare a sedative for Mike and my omega is back in panic mode.

“No, please don’t. I don’t want to.” Mike is sobbing now, and I can’t do anything to calm him. I hate to see him so frightened.

“Hush, baby. It’s okay. It will help you calm down. And when you wake up again, I will be here.”

I try to explain to him that everything will be alright. That I will stay with him and make sure he’s safe, but I can see in his panicked gaze that he isn’t listening to me, too caught up in his panic attack. Then his eyelids slowly flutter shut. I lean forward and kiss his forehead, hoping that he can feel my caress before he slips off completely.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’m here to keep you safe.”

I hold him like this for a couple more minutes, whispering over and over to him that I will keep him safe and that he was nothing to fear, not ever again, while Martin and the nurse, I think her name is Lydia, are taking care of him and making sure that all the other lines that are keeping him alive and healthy are undamaged.

Donna is standing by my side, her hand on my shoulder a reassuring weight, trying to explain to me what had led to this, but her voice is like white noise to me. Gazing at my omega’s face takes up all of my attention.

Martin finally touches my arm and I look up at him, the spell broken.

He’s holding Mike’s right hand which is now sporting a fresh white bandage taped up tight over the new IV-line. 

“He’s okay Harvey. I checked him over and despite the little tear in his hand he’s okay. He’s sleeping now.”

I don’t want to let go of Mike, but I know that I have to. I can see in Martin’s face that he needs to talk to me.

“Lydia will stay here for a minute while I speak with you and Donna. He won’t be alone. Not for a moment. But I think you and Donna both need a minute to take a breather. You’re both shaking a bit.”

I finally manage to let go of Mike’s face and Donna takes me by the arm to lead me away. When I look at her shocked face, I realize that she’s as rattled by this as I am.

Lydia is using a wet wipe to clean some of the blood off Mike’s skin and on our way out, another nurse comes our way, carrying clean sheets and some other supplies.

Martin’s right. I’m only in their way right now and I could use some breathing time, as can Donna.

The doc ushers us into his office and we sink down in the chairs. Suddenly I feel drained; physically and emotionally.

“Donna, can you please recap what happened. I think that Harvey hasn’t heard a word you said.”

My assistant explains again that Lydia’s innocent answer to his question where he was has led to Mike’s meltdown. Apparently learning that he was at Mount Sinai’s Hospital for Omegas has sparked a flight response in him so powerful that despite his condition he had been able to put up a fight. It finally sinks in, at least a little, what caring for Mike really means. When he was asleep all we needed to do was keep his body functioning and make sure that he could feel he wasn’t alone. The real work begins now, that his body is finally getting better.

Martin looks at me, giving me time to let it all sink in. Then he opens Mike’s patient file and takes a form out of it.

“There are some decisions you need to make, Harvey.” His voice is kind and gentle, the voice he usually reserves for his patients, and I know that I’m in trouble.

“I think it is time we talk about restraints.”

I can feel the color drain from my face and Donna’s hand slips into mine like she’s trying to lend me strength.

“I don’t want that.” I’ve seen how he hates to be helpless and I can’t be the cause for that.

“I don’t want that either, but I think we have no other choice. Not after what he did to himself today.”

“He will hate me for it.” There. I’ve voiced my fear.

Before Martin can answer, Donna butts in, her voice reasonable and firm. The voice she usually uses to talk some sense into me.

“Yes, he probably will.” She squeezes my hand and I look at her. She holds my eyes with her gaze to make sure I understand her next statement. “But this is not about you, Harvey. It’s about Mike. Keeping him safe, even from himself, is more important than making him like you. First, he needs to know that there’s no use in fighting. And when he has come to grips with this new situation and he starts to trust you, then you can worry about the rest. But now you need to be his alpha first, and being his friend comes second.”

When voiced likes this, I have no counterargument, although this really sucks. I still think about it for a minute, hoping to find a different, a better, approach, but my mind is sort of blank.

Then Martin says, “Trust me, Harvey. It’s for the best.”

Okay, so the two have ganged up on me now. But maybe they are right. My emotions are getting in the way here and clouding my sight on the things that need to be done. So maybe I should trust them if I can’t trust myself.

“What…” I need to start the sentence again. The thought that I consent to the restraining of my omega is deeply troubling to me. “How will you do it? Will…will it hurt him?”

Martin explains to me what kind of restrains the hospital will use and how Mike’s treatment will progress now that his body is getting better. I listen to him, feeling cold and numb inside, doubt still gnawing on my insides like a cancer.

Then the Doc explains what needs to be done to get the kid back on his feet.

“He will need physical therapy to build back some of the muscles he has lost. And he won’t like it. Nobody does. It’s painful and exhausting.”

I nod. Agreeing to have him restraint was the hardest part. Everything else after that becomes easier. Then a thought crosses my mind. “What about a psychotherapist? Shouldn’t he get some sort of counseling?”

I can see that he gives this some thought but then he shakes his head.

“We can keep that in mind, but for now I would like to try a more natural approach.”

I narrow my eyebrows questioningly.

“I’m talking about letting nature take its course. For omegas it is deeply ingrained in their nature to trust their alphas. I think that Mike only needs a friendly reminder about what he truly is. So I want you to be here all the time. I want him to see, hear and smell you. I want you to soothe him when he’s frightened, praise him when he’s achieved something and encourage him when he’s struggling. I just want you there for every step of the way. He needs to realize that you’re his safe haven and that he can trust you.” He thinks for a moment. “I think we need to put a guest bed into his room.”

Okay. Seems like I’m moving into the hospital permanently, at least for a few days or even weeks. I look at Donna but before I can say anything, she just nods. “Already on it, boss. I’ll bring you an overnight bag later. Do you need anything else besides some clothes and your toothbrush?”

I shake my head. “I’ll text you later if anything else comes to mind. Right now, I can’t think clearly.”

She bends down and retrieves the book from her purse. “I’ve marked the page. Maybe you want to read it to him later. You know, to get him used to your voice.”

Okay. When this is over, I need to send her on a vacation to the most luxurious retreat I can find. And the fact that I don’t need to say thank you, that the look I give her is enough for her to understand my gratitude, is just one more reason why I can’t live without her.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, then I better get a move on. My boss needs his pajamas.” I know she’s only kidding. I don’t own pajamas.

She leaves us alone and suddenly I notice the look in Martin’s face as he watches her vanish through the door.

“She’s a treasure.” I think the words slip out of his mouth without thought. But I get what he means. And he’s absolutely right.

“Yes. You’ve got no idea.”

I watch him squirm a little. I already know his next question. “Have you ever…you and Donna…no, forget it. It’s none of my business. Sorry.”

“No, I haven’t. But not for lack of trying.” I decide to tell him our story. We both need a little distraction right now and the story I’m about to tell him makes me look bad and paints her in a glowing light so it should be okay to put him in the loop.

“I’ve worked a couple of years in the DA’s office. She was a secretary there. I…before Mike…let’s just say I hit on everyone, no matter whether beta or omega, male or female. Most of them were quite willing to join me for a roll around between the sheets.”

“Ah, I see. A man of no discriminations.”

“None whatsoever. Well, one condition. I never was one for bonding. Until now.”

“98.7 % is hard to resist.”

“Impossible,” I agree. “So, anyway. I was hitting on this little spitfire beta secretary, telling her how amazing I was, and she called BS to my face. I tried even harder, you know, the thrill of the chase and all that. She actually left me with an ultimatum. I could have her for one amazing, unforgettable night, her words by the way, or she could be my secretary for the foreseeable future, and she would help me built up my career. I had only known her for a week back then but really, this was a no-brainer. I’ve never met anyone as competent in their job as Donna. When I left the DA’s office and went into corporate law, I took her with me. She runs my office, she runs my life, and essentially, she runs me. Without her I would be utterly lost. That’s why I take all the crap she gives me.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. I was wondering if there was something more to it.”

“No. There isn’t. Doesn’t mean that I won’t rip any man to shreds who hurts her feelings in any way.”

He sighs resigned. “And there’s the friendly warning.”

“Yeah. But only because I like you. And you’re saving my omega’s life. Otherwise you wouldn’t get any warning at all.”

“So, do you think I have a chance?” I can see the anxiety in his face but I’ve no idea how to answer his question. I know that Donna likes him. But does she like him this much?

“Your guess is as good as mine. I think she likes you, but how much I really can’t say. You might have to chance it.”

He winces at that and I know he imagines getting turned down by her. Since I already know how this feels, he has my full sympathy. For a few precious moments we occupy our thoughts with this but then his telephone rings and brings us back into the real world.

He mostly listens to the voice on the other end of the line. When he hangs up, he slides some forms over to me. A copy of the official document confirming my appointment as Mike’s legal guardian is somewhere in his patient file and it seems like I need to give my consent to a few things, as much as I might hate that.

But like Donna had put it so succinctly, this needs to be done to keep him from harm and if he hates me for it, I need to suck it up and learn to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading.


	10. Mike's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike finally wakes up for good and this time he has to deal with a stunning revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was once again beta-read by my partner in crime, the lovely Tara_Beth. 
> 
> Since I had a comment on the last chapters that gave me some serious pause, I try to be more careful with triggers. So, if restraints or any sort of forced medical treatment is a red flag for you, you might not want to read on. 
> 
> Nothing really bad is going to happen and both alphas have only Mike's best interest in mind, but for the time being he will not be able to make his own decisions or even move the way he wants to move. If this is upsetting to you, don't read any further.  
> I want people to enjoy my story not being traumatized or upset by it.

I hear a voice saying this rhyme in sort of a singsong: _A box without hinges, key, or lid; yet golden treasure inside is hid._ I know the answer to that riddle but before I can say a word, another voice, this one hissing and lisping, splutters with indignation. When I look around I can see a little man with shaggy brown hair and big furry feet, wearing a dark green cloak and hood. We’re in some sort of a cave and opposite the little man is a pale naked thing, barely recognizable as humanoid anymore, crouching on its haunches near a little underground lake.

I know immediately that this is the scene where Bilbo and Gollum have their riddle stand-off right after the little Hobbit has found the One Ring. I really love this story so much and I watch the events unfold before my eyes. After a while, but not before Bilbo has asked the question to which Gollum had no answer, the scene fades before my eyes so it isn’t like watching a movie anymore. Instead, I hear a low voice telling me what is happening. This voice, although speaking softly, is very expressive. It rises and falls as the events unfold and drops into a different register when it’s time for Gollum or Bilbo or any of the other protagonists to speak. When it just narrates, it uses its natural warm timbre.

I decide that I like this voice very much.

After a while things become gradually clearer to me and I realize that someone is reading to me. I don’t know who or why but right at this moment it isn’t important. I just lie here and listen to the nice voice, telling me about Bilbo and the dwarves and their quest to get rid of the dragon Smaug, who has taken up residence in the Lonely Mountain, the former home of Thorin Oakenshield and his band of fellow dwarves.

I know that I must’ve been sleeping and now I’m waking up, teetering right at the edge between sleep and consciousness, but right now I don’t want to open my eyes. I want to stay like this, just lying here all warm and cozy and listen to this voice, telling me a tale full of adventure and friendship. Deep down, I know that as soon as I open my eyes, harsh reality will hit me hard and I’m not prepared for that yet. I know that I’m in the hospital and I know that my cover’s blown but I’m not willing to face this and the consequences it might entail. If I stay like this, I won’t have to deal with it.

So I keep my breathing even and deep and my eyes closed, hoping that I will be able to slip back into sleep but it eludes me. Instead, I become aware that I need to pee. Badly.

I try to suppress this feeling but after a few minutes I give up. There’s no help for it. The more I try to not think about my bladder, the worse the pressure in it gets. I need to piss now and I don’t want to lie in a puddle of my own urine.

I blink my eyes open, hoping to find Martin sitting next to me, although I know that it’s not his voice I’ve been listening to for the last few minutes or so.

As soon as I open my eyes and swivel my head in the direction of the reader, he falls silent. I look at him and he looks back at me with this golden-brown eyes I can remember so well. Then he smiles warmly and stands up.

When his hand comes near my face I instinctively try to brush it away, but I can’t move my hands. Why can’t I move my hands? I can feel them alright but something is keeping them fixed on the mattress.

The smile on his face stays put, but concern creeps into his eyes when he sees my struggles.

“Shhh, Mike. It’s alright. Don’t fight it. We needed to restrain your hands so you won’t hurt yourself again, baby.”

_What the fuck?_

“Don’t, please!” I whimper helplessly as understanding dawns. They have tied me down like I’m an extra of _One flew over the cuckoo’s nest_. I’m helpless, defenseless, and totally dependent on strangers. And my bladder is fucking killing me.

He lays his hand on my forehead and pets my head like I’m a puppy while his gaze is locked on my face.

I still try to yank my hands free but there are these sort of cuffs, but soft and broad and not like a cop’s cuffs, around my wrists. I squirm harder and try to pull my right foot towards me for leverage, but it’s also fixed to the mattress. I'm utterly helpless and there’s this strange alpha in the room. An alpha who has attacked me once already.

I yank and squirm on the mattress while the panic slowly grows inside of me and his steady gaze becomes more and more concerned.

He talks to me. I can see his lips moving but I’m too focused on getting myself free to listen to a word he’s saying.

He fiddles with the remote control of the bed and after a few moments Martin enters my room.

Oh good _._ Martin is here and he will keep me safe from this strange alpha.

He grips one of my restraint hands and as soon as I feel his touch I relax a little.

“Mike, calm down buddy. It’s okay. Stop fighting. You’re safe with us.”

_Us, is it? Why us? Who is this other guy?_

I know that he’s the alpha I encountered a few weeks ago. And I know that he has been here the few times I woke up before, but I’ve no idea what he’s doing here. Is he a doctor too? But why isn’t he wearing a lab-coat then? And didn’t the card the red-haired lady gave me state his occupation as attorney at law? Why would I need a lawyer? Or is someone suing me?

Martin cups my cheek and entices me to look at him. “I want you to take a deep breath, Mike. I’m sure you have a ton of questions but I need you to calm down before I can answer any of them. Can you do that for me?”

My instinct tells me to keep fighting, but somewhere in the rational part of my brain I know that he will only sedate me again if I keep this up. So I try to follow his order and suck a deep breath into my lungs. On his command I exhale and inhale again, over and over until I can finally feel the panic subsiding. I’m still pissed as hell that they’ve restrained me, but there’s nothing I can do about that for now. So in order to get my freedom back they need to think that I’m cooperating.

“I’m better now,” I whisper after a few minutes, hoping that they buy my timid act. Maybe if they think that I’ve given up they will free me.

Both men sit down next to my bed and I can feel that they’re both holding one of my hands, but I’m keeping my eyes fixed on Martin. I don’t want to look at the other alpha. There’s something in his eyes that confuses me.

“You’ve been in an accident,” Martin starts to explain to me but before he can launch himself into the whole story there’s a pressing matter that I need to take care of.

“I need to pee.” I hadn’t meant it to sound so desperate but by now this issue has become really urgent. I can feel how my blood rushes into my face. God, this is so embarrassing.

“Mike, you can pee if you need to. Just relax.”

_Again, what the fuck?_

“I don’t want to pee into the bed. I’m not a little kid.” Honest indignation laces my words but somehow Martin only smiles at me.

“You have a catheter in your urethra, Mike. Just relax. You will not wet the bed. I promise.”

My head whips around to the other alpha, who only nods and smiles. Are they freaking kidding me? They really want me to take a piss in front of them?

I don’t know if it’s the indignation in my eyes or the fact that I can literally feel my ears glowing red-hot with humiliation, but the expression on the other alpha’s - Harvey’s - face changes slowly. He stands up and lets go of my hand.

“Why don’t we give Mike some privacy, Martin? I’m sure that I wouldn’t be able to relax if someone was watching me.”

“But what if he…,” Martin starts to protest but when he catches Harvey’s gaze he snaps his mouth shut. “Okay. I think you’re right.” He stands up too and pushes the remote control of the bed into one of my restraint hands.

“Just relax, Mike. It’s like normal peeing. When you’re done, press the call-button.”

They leave the room, both of them giving me an encouraging smile before the go through the door. Thank god they’re not doing the thumbs-up thing.

As soon as I’m alone I let my head sink back into the pillow and exhale.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I mumble in an attempt to encourage my bladder to relax and do what it’s supposed to do, but the stupid thing isn’t convinced at all that this is like normal peeing. For one thing, I don’t normally urinate when I’m lying in bed. But the pressure is getting really painful by now and suddenly I remember the odd tugging sensation on my penis from the last time I was awake. So yeah, I know that Martin hasn’t lied to me.

I close my eyes and try to imagine that I’m standing in front of my toilet at home.

“You can do this. Come one.” Thinking these words isn’t enough so I whisper them to myself. And suddenly the pressure slowly subsides and I can feel the muscles in my pelvis region relax. This feels so fucking good and I sigh relieved. When I’m done, or better, when I think I’m done, a glance down at my restraints.

They’re made from light-brown leather and they’re broad and sturdy but the inside is padded and soft, so I can’t hurt myself. But I can’t slip out of them either, even when I fold my thumb inside my palm and pull with all the strength I can muster. The leather strips the cuffs are fastened to vanish to the side of the bed so I can’t reach them either and there’s also a little rail on each side of the bed so I’m sort of caged in. There’s no way I can’t get out of this on my own. _Fuck!_

I fiddle with the remote control and the upper part of the bed whirrs into an upright position. That’s better.

I’m sure if I take much longer one of the alphas will peek into the room to see if I’m alright but I need to make a plan. _Think, Mike. What needs to be done first?_

The catheter. Yeah, I need to get rid of this thing in my pecker. I can understand why they put it in and frankly, that’s better than a diaper, but now that I’m awake I prefer to piss like a normal person, thank you very much.

And I need to get rid of the restraints. There’s this itch on my nose and I’m turning my head sideways and rub it against the pillow in the hope that I can make it go away. Suddenly there’s this funny feeling in my nose. When I repeat the motion on the pillow I feel it again so I scrunch up my nose and sniff. Yep. There’s also a tube in one of my nostrils. Great. I must look like a cyborg with all the external equipment stuck in my body. Or one of the Borg from Enterprise.

I can’t make any further plans without knowing what’s what so I finally push the call-button. I can’t hear a noise but I’m sure the alarm will alert them nevertheless.

Only seconds later the door is pushed open and both alphas take up their former seats on each side of the bed.

“Feeling better now?” It’s the lawyer-alpha who asks this question and I nod, still a little embarrassed to share information about my bodily functions with a stranger.

“Actually, I thought, maybe now that I’m awake, can’t you take it out?” I look pleadingly at Martin and after he gives it some thought he nods.

“Okay, yes, I can do that. And the fact that you were aware of your need to urinate is a good sign. It means that you’re getting some control over your body back.”

I look down at my restraints. _Yeah, I wish._ The irony seems to be lost on both of them.

Martin pushes the button again and when a nurse comes in he asks her for some supplies. Oh, okay, he wants to do it right now.

Together with the nurse he spreads this thick pad underneath me, I guess just in case that there’s some urine left in the tube.

“I think I should leave.” Once again the strange alpha offers to give me some privacy and for a moment I’m just grateful for his consideration.

“No, stay. We need someone to distract Mike a little.”

And there goes my privacy. I open my mouth to protest but suddenly the alpha bends slightly over me and catches both of my hands in his, holding them in a gentle, reassuring grip. Before I can think about it I reciprocate on pure instinct.

“It’s okay, kid. I’m a little embarrassed myself. But I tell you what. You look into my eyes and I look into yours and we’re peachy. Just pretend you’re somewhere else. Do you like Central Park?”

I understand that he’s trying to distract me with small talk but I’m totally consumed by what’s going on below my waist. I can feel someone’s gloved fingers fumbling at my penis and there’s something cool and slick dribbled on my cockhead and a fingertip smears it all around the tube. I hiss when the tube finally slides out of my dick and this is the most peculiar feeling I ever had. I gasp when my penis is finally again like nature had it intended to be, but then I can feel it swelling. And swelling. It is as if all my blood suddenly decides to rush south to see what’s happening down there. I moan when I realize that I’m going to have a boner, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

I said before that I would like to rub one out every once in a while but this is definitely not what I had in mind. Plus, tied up hands. Kinda contradicts the purpose.

“Come on Mike, eyes back to me. I’m sure it will be over soon.” The alpha seems to think that I’m in pain and yeah, one could mistake my low moans for a sign of pain. Oh boy, you’ve no idea dude. When I thought my pee-problem was embarrassing I had no idea that there could be something worse. They need to rewrite the definition of humiliation to describe what I feel right now. I’m sure that my face resembles a fire-hydrant in color.

“There Mike, all done. And don’t worry. What you’re feeling right now is quite normal. Just a reaction to the mechanical manipulation. You will be able to relax in a couple of minutes.”

Martin’s tone of voice is calm and matter-of-fact, like it is the most normal thing in the world that a patient sports a phenomenal boner while his hands are working on his dick. But then, maybe it is. How would I know?

The nurse leaves with the pad and the tube of the catheter and both alphas sit down next to me again. I’m glad that Martin hasn’t described my situation in more detail to the alpha. And anyway, time to get to the bottom of this and find out who this guy is.

I turn my head and fix him with my eyes. “Look man, I know that we’ve met before and I know you’ve been here at the hospital for a while but could you please explain to me why? Who are you, dude?”

I know that my voice might sound a little bit too aggressive and up until now he has been nothing but nice to me, but being left in the dark about something, or someone, who feels important is a little bit annoying. Plus, someone just pulled a tube out of my dick so I think I’m allowed to be a little cranky.

The guy opens his mouth and I notice how nice it looks. Why does it look nice? It’s just a mouth. With lips and teeth and stuff. Just a mouth. So why do I think it looks nice?

“Don’t call me…never mind.” His voice sounds like he catches himself midsentence. Hm. Interesting. I get the sense that this guy normally doesn’t take shit from no one. And I think he doesn’t like to be called dude.

“My name is Harvey. Harvey Specter. And yes, we’ve met before. On the sidewalk of the office building I’m working in. I… sort of attacked you. I was in the early stages of my rut and I caught your scent and I couldn’t think straight. I know that it must have been frightening what I did that day and I’m sorry.”

He pauses and just looks at me like he’s waiting for a reaction so I nod. If he wants my forgiveness he can have it. Maybe if I cooperate he will help me get rid of the restraints. It seems like he and Martin are friends.

Then he continues with his explanation. “Why I’m here is quite a long story actually but the gist is, I’m your alpha.”

That statement feels like someone has just poured a bucket of ice-water over my head.

“No, that can’t be right. I don’t have an alpha. It can’t be you.”

I know that there’s no use in pretending to be a beta anymore, since Martin knows better, but as for this stranger being my alpha, that’s just ridiculous. Maybe he has formed an attachment to me since he saw me on the street but that doesn’t mean that it’s true.

I turn my head to Martin, hoping that he will contradict Harvey. But the doc just smiles and nods at me. “It’s true Mike. I’ve done the blood test myself. And the lab ran it twice since they couldn’t believe the result. Harvey is your alpha. There’s no doubt about it. And you’re a 98.7 % match.”

And that’s when I realize that I’m well and truly screwed.

**********

They explain to me a little more about my current condition; about the injuries from the accident and about the complications the suppressants have caused. Guess what, I know that I wasn’t popping candy. I’m not stupid but since I haven’t planned on becoming 100 years old, maybe not even 50, the warnings from the guy who sold them to me haven’t bothered me yet.

So while Martin harps on about hormonal imbalance and probable infertility (good, then nobody can force me to have their kids) I try to understand what having this guy as my alpha will mean for my future life.

Okay, I guess that despite the little act on the street he isn’t really threatening or frightening. And even when he snatched me off my bike he tried to keep me safe and he was gentle and sort of nice, I think. Maybe he’s a tiny bit intimidating with his broad build and his alpha vibe but nothing I can’t handle. Giving alphas some attitude is something I have majored in over the last 10 years.

But I get the feeling that fighting this guy outright will not help my cause. No, I need to learn more about what makes him tick to find his weak spot. Then I can try to work him. Is he one who falls for the helpless omega act? Or does he like a little spunk?

No time like the present to find out, I guess.

I press my eyelids together, furrow my brows and issue a half-suppressed low moan. Martin immediately shuts up with his recital of facts. “Are you in pain, Mike?” he asks concerned and for a moment I feel a little guilty. But hey, I’m fighting for my freedom here so everything’s fair game.

“My head hurts. And my throat is a little sore. I’m so thirsty.” I make my voice a little faint to emphasize on how helpless and ill I am. Poor little me.

Martin’s hand touches my forehead and it’s cool and nice. But then he looks over to Harvey and pointedly retreats his hand. When I glance over to the other alpha, and yeah, I will not refer to him as _my alpha_ , no way, I can see a barely veiled frown on his handsome face. No, it’s a normal face. Why did I think it was handsome? Get a grip, Mike. Come on.

So, Harvey has a possessive streak. Good to know. Maybe I can work on that angle but for now I file that away for later.

Martin leaves the room to fetch me something to drink and I brace myself internally before I turn my head around to Harvey. No more getting distracted by his mouth or his eyes or whatever. It’s just a normal face. Nothing special. Or handsome. Just average and not pretty at all.

“Is this really necessary?” I raise my left hand weakly the fraction of an inch I can actually lift it before I let it fall back onto the mattress like this little movement has used up all of my strength. Then I adopt a slightly whining tone of voice. Not too much, though. Just a hint to trigger his protectiveness.

“It’s really frightening to be so helpless. And I promise that I won’t do anything bad anymore. It was just because I was so scared and confused. But now I understand.” I fix him with my best teary wide-eyed stare and even manage to wobble my lower lip a little as if I try so hard to be brave but am barely succeeding in keeping in the tears. I can’t count how often this special expression had gotten me out of trouble so far. There’s definitely an upside to looking like a teenager.

And it works again. He melts. I can see it in his eyes. Sucker! And if the restraints are gone they will most likely stay off for good. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not planning on doing something rash right now since I’m in no condition to fight or flee anyway, but I need to get these things off me, and the sooner the better.

Martin comes in with a sippy cup and this derails my train of thought a little. A sippy cup! Like I’m a toddler. I breathe deeply and try to suppress my indignation. They need to think that I will submit to everything they want to do with me. But I really would have preferred a glass with a straw. I’m an adult after all.

Harvey takes the sippy cup from Martin but before he lets me drink, he looks questioningly up at him.

“Mike asked me if we can take off his restraints. I guess that he’s feeling a little helpless and he has promised to behave himself.”

“Hm.” I can hear that Martin is not convinced so when he cups my face to make me look up at him I give him the same treatment as Harvey, but without the wobbly lower lip. That would’ve been too much. Before I can prevent it, my tongue slides out and wets my lower lip and then I nibble nervously at it. It’s just something I do sometimes and most of the time I’m not even aware that I’m doing it.

Suddenly Martin grins at me and somehow I know that things haven’t gone as planned.

“I think we’ll leave them on for the time being.”

_What the fuck? Hello, wide teary blue eyes here!_

“Why?” Harvey beats me to this question.

Martin still holds my face but he looks over to Harvey, who seems as confused as I am.

“You see, Harvey, Mike here has this specific tell when he’s up to something. Always has, from back when he was a 10 year old boy, trying to wiggle out of an assignment he deemed too boring or beneath him.”

He looks back down at me and his grin widens. “Mike’s a licker and a nibbler. Meaning, when you see him lick his lower lip and then start nibbling at it with his front teeth, he has some mischief in mind.”

I shift my attention to my mouth and let my lower lip slip out from between my teeth. _Damn!_

Harvey laughs and it is warm and melodious. I hate it. He laughs even harder when he sees my scowl and Martin chimes in. Has nobody told these two alpha-jerks that it isn’t nice to make fun of other people?

Harvey leans over me and nuzzles his face against my cheek. He smells really nice. No, he doesn’t smell nice at all. Then he whispers, still chuckling, “Busted, buddy.”

I hate him so much right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you want to leave me a comment I'm very eager to read what you're thinking.  
> And kudos is of course also highly appreciated


	11. Harvey's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike finally wakes up and Harvey has some explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was once again beta-read by my partner in crime, the lovely Tara_Beth. 
> 
> Since I had a comment on the last chapters that gave me some serious pause, I try to be more careful with triggers. So, if restraints or any sort of forced medical treatment is a red flag for you, you might not want to read on. 
> 
> Nothing really bad is going to happen and both alphas have only Mike's best interest in mind, but for the time being he will not be able to make his own decisions or even move the way he wants to move. If this is upsetting to you, don't read any further.  
> I want people to enjoy my story not being traumatized or upset by it.

Martin accompanies me back to Mike’s room before he leaves to make his rounds. I’ve almost forgotten that he has other patients he needs to take care of as well.

For a while I just stand next to the bed and look down on my omega. His face is relaxed without any signs of pain or panic and he breathes evenly and deeply. Behind his slightly open lips a can see his white upper front teeth glinting. His lips look a little dry and slightly cracked so I take the little tub with the lip balm Donna has bought for Mike, vanilla flavor but colorless, and apply a thin layer on them while I fantasize about kissing him. I think he feels it because he suddenly smacks his lips a little. Then I cup his face in my hand, bend down und push my nose against his neck right below his left ear.

A relieved little laugh escapes me when I’m surrounded by a cloud of his scent. It’s getting stronger every day now and this gives me hope, probably more than it should.

I know that Martin has said there is no way of telling what the long term damage due to the cheap suppressants will be. But the fact that I was able to smell him back when I first encountered him on the street, even when he was still on them and most likely used scent inhibitors as well, tells me that things can’t be that hopeless. His body is still producing pheromones and they’re getting stronger with each day. So maybe the rest of his body chemistry will get back to normal as well. And even if he really is infertile, I don’t care as long as he is otherwise healthy and happy.

No, that’s not true. Of course I care. But not for my sake. I long ago accepted that I would have no offspring since I’ve never thought I would find my bond mate. But I’m afraid that at one point, he might feel regret about it.

Ah well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

A thought comes into my head and for a moment I want to summon Martin and talk with him about it. But then I decide to make this call on my own. Even if it doesn’t have any effect on Mike, it won’t hurt him either.

But for this to work I need to work up a sweat first. So I get down on the floor beside his bed and do some push-ups. I don’t need to do a full work out. All I need to do is sweat a little. So around the 30th push-up I feel my heartrate quicken a little and at the 50th my muscles slowly begin to burn. That should be enough. I get on my feet again, open the buttons of my shirt and slip my fingers into my armpit. I haven’t used any deodorant for the same reason I haven’t used aftershave. I wanted nothing to muddle my natural scent. My armpit isn’t really ideal for what I’m doing but I’m not ready to do anything else. My pheromones are most likely strongest in my groin area but…no, not without his consent. So a little armpit sweat it is.

When I withdraw my slightly damp fingers I put them under his nose. At first nothing happens. Then I see the tiniest flare of his nostrils and I think he inhales more deeply.

I smile happily. Come on baby. Smell my pheromones. Another inhale and this time it is followed by a little sigh. I tell myself that it is a happy sound and wipe my fingertip over his philtrum to leave some of my scent right under his nose, before I sit back in the chair.

I haven’t brought any new files with me so there is nothing for me to work on but then I remember the Wainwright merger and I cringe internally. I hate mergers. And I have to work on this one with Louis which doesn’t make this any better.

Well, I owe Jessica for letting me stay with Mike and I need to hold up my end of the bargain so I fire up my laptop and for a while I work, but every now and then I glance up at Mike. Martin has told me that he will be out for a good few hours if not for the whole night. The fight he had put up will have drained him so he needs a few hours to recharge.

At 7 p.m. Donna comes in and when I see what she’s brought with her, I smile. I haven’t noticed how hungry I am, but now that I can smell the food my stomach growls in response. She is followed by Martin and Ray, who is carrying my medium sized overnight bag. I know that there are most likely a lot of files in there as well. Since I’m staying here I will only need casual clothes and this bag is far too big for that.

Martin grins at me when he hears my stomach. “Donna thought you could use something to eat. And she was nice enough to get the big pizza so that I could have a slice too.”

I eye the huge pizza box in her hand. “I’m hungry, but I don’t think I’m that hungry. There should be more than just one slice for you in it, doc.”

Donna, already in assistant mode, clears my laptop from the shaky little table and sets the pizza down on it. Then she retrieves some napkins from her purse, while Ray sets down my bag in a corner of the room.

I notice how Martin looks at her and decide to try my hand at match-making.

“Thanks Donna, you’re a lifesaver. But this pizza is big enough for three or even four. Do you and Ray want to join us? We could have a pizza party.” I know that Ray is married and will most likely eat with his wife but it would be rude to exclude him.

She smiles but shakes her head. “No, thank you. Louis has procured tickets for the ballet from a client so I need to get home and change. They’re doing _Romeo and Juliet_.” 

_Ouch!_ I know that Donna isn’t the least bit interested in Louis, even though the same can’t be said for him, but Martin looks like he has just been kicked in the nuts. He hastily turns around and fiddles with Mike’s IV-line so Donna can’t see his face, but I can see on the straight set of his shoulders that he’s fighting with his emotions. 

Only when she and Ray are making their goodbyes and leave us, he reacts again. “Bye Donna,” he says over his shoulder, but she’s already halfway out of the door.

As soon as it falls shut behind her he turns to me. “Who the fuck is Louis?”

**********  
  


Last night was pretty uneventful. After I put Martin in the loop about Louis, and hey, no way Donna will go anywhere near this guy without a ten foot pole to poke at him if he gets too close, we murder the pizza. There’s no beer of course, but Martin gets us two sodas from the vending machine down the hall. I never had Mexican coke before, but I like it. And even Mike joins us in our meal, although in a somewhat passive capacity. Sarah, another of the numerous ward’s nurses, pushes the brown mush through the tube into his body and I cringe slightly as I watch. I know it is necessary and since he’s not able to taste the stuff it might not be so bad but I’m glad that I can have pizza.

Later, two male orderlies bring in a camp bed that the hospital keeps in store for exactly this occasion. It’s surprisingly comfy and I settle in next to Mike. I read for a while from Donna’s book. It’s Tolkien’s _The Hobbit_ and I’d last read it when I was a teenager but now I’m rediscovering it anew. At first I thought I would only read it for Mike’s sake but about 30 pages in I really start to enjoy it myself.

Before I shut the light off, Martin comes in for his last round before he’s going to settle in himself in his ready room. He’s carrying some restraints with him and my up until now good mood evaporates. Somehow I had hoped that he had forgotten about this.

“We need to put these on him now. If he wakes up during the night while you’re asleep he could do himself some harm.”

Okay. That sounds reasonable but I still hate to do it.

He hands one of the broad leather cuffs to me and I inspect it carefully, still not fully convinced that this is the right thing to do. It is lined with a very soft material and padded with some foamy stuff and after I’ve held it in my hands for a while and even looped it around my own wrist, I can see that this will not hurt him. Not physically at least. There’s no telling what it will do to his psyche.

Martin puts the cuff on his right wrist, carefully avoiding the IV-line, and I mirror him on the left. We don’t speak much, both of us caught up in the process. If we weren’t so fond of Mike, this would be so much easier.

He puts a slightly bigger cuff around Mike’s right ankle and then he shows me how to fasten the cuffs to the thick leather strips that are attached to the side of the bed frame. When we’re done, only Mike’s left leg isn’t fastened to the bed. But the cast is heavy enough to prevent him from doing much with it.

Martin takes a last look at Mike’s vital signs, wishes me a good night and leaves. Before I turn the light off, I use the bathroom and discover at least one positive effect of the restraints. For the first time in a while I’m not anxious when I leave Mike out of my sight.

I kiss his forehead when I wish him a good night and then I try to sleep. I love it that I’m so close to him; that I can hear all the little noises he makes during sleep, but I long to hold him in my arms properly again. Since this isn’t possible right now I sneak my hand over to his and wrap it around his fingers. When I can feel that he’s responding to my touch I can finally relax.

“Don’t hate me for this,” I plead before I finally try to get a little sleep as well.

**********

Today continues pretty much like yesterday. Martin comes in at about 5 a.m. to look after Mike and although he tries to be quiet I wake up and watch him do his thing through half-closed eyelids. When he’s done I can’t go back to sleep so I decide to begin my day.

For a few hours I work on my computer, only interrupted by Martin, who looks in on us about an hour after his early morning visit, before he leaves the hospital for a few hours. I don’t really understand in which kind of system the doctors are working but I get that he’s at the hospital almost all the time. And I thought that I worked a lot but compared to him I’m a slacker.

I manage to make a dent in all of my accumulated e-mails and I even make some phone-calls with clients to assure them that I haven’t abandoned them just randomly and that they are in good hands with Jessica and Louis. Most of them are sympathetic when they learn that my omega was involved in an accident and is hospitalized, although I can hear their surprise when they learn that I have an omega. Normally I would like to keep my private life private but since our clients pay us a shitload of money for my services, I think they deserve an explanation from me.

At around midmorning I lose my drive a little and I decide to go back to reading the book to Mike. When the nurse comes in to feed him I just continue reading and after she’s done she stays a few moments longer to listen to me until I reach the end of the chapter.

“You could do that professionally. You know, like those guys in the audio-books. It’s really nice listening to you.”

I smile involuntarily, happy that at least someone appreciates my reading. But before I can thank her for her kind remark her pager buzzes and she leaves us to take care of her next patient.

After a few minutes she comes back in though and brings me a cup of coffee and some slices of buttered toast and a plate with scrambled eggs.

“To keep up your strength,” she explains and winks at me before she leaves us alone again.

I eat my breakfast before it gets cold and then I resume reading to my omega.

When I come to the part where Bilbo encounters Gollum and they have the riddle-match, I think I can see Mike stirring a bit. His head shifts slightly on the pillow into my direction but his eyes stay shut although I can see his eyeballs moving behind them rapidly. Maybe he’s dreaming.

I continue to read to him for another half hour but by now I’m sure that he’s on the verge of waking up. He shifts slightly on the mattress and his fingers twitch lightly every once in a while but so far he hasn’t tried to move his hands.

He finally blinks his eyes open, fully awake now and when he looks at me with this beautiful blue eyes of his I can’t help but smile. It’s like someone just pushed away a cloud and a warm ray of sunlight falls directly on my heart, melting all the ice that had accumulated there over the years.

I put the book aside and stand up, so he can see me better but when I touch his face (Martin said I should touch him a lot to establish our bond) he suddenly yanks at his restraints. His eyes widen in shock when he can’t move his hands although he tries again and again, making the bed-rails rattle in the process.

I’ve dreaded this moment but now that it’s here I need to push my own feelings aside and keep it together for my omega.

“Hush, Mike. It’s alright. Don’t fight it. We needed to restrain your hands so you won’t hurt yourself again, baby,” I try to explain to him in the hope that this will calm him down but Mike obviously has other ideas.

“Don’t, please!” he whimpers and his voice trembles with fear and there’s this lump in my throat again. I put my hand on his forehead and smooth my thumb over his temple in tiny circles in the hope that this will soothe him while I hold his wide-eyed gaze and keep smiling at him to show him that everything is okay. But he doesn’t give up. He still squirms and wriggles on the mattress and nothing I say makes him stop. I’m not sure what to do. So I talk to him. I explain to him who I am and why he’s in hospital and restrained but after a few sentences I realize that he doesn’t hear a word I’m saying.

As a last resort, I push the call button and pray that Martin is back on duty. I’ve met the other doctors and I guess they’re okay but I would prefer him in this particular situation. It’s a little past noon now so I don’t have much hope but it is indeed he who answers the call.

As soon as Mike sees him, he relaxes a little and I’m once more utterly grateful that Martin is there to help us both through this.

He takes Mike’s right hand into his and tells him in this soothing voice that he’s safe with us and everything is alright. When this doesn’t work immediately he guides my omega through this breathing exercise and Mike gradually calms down enough to finally be able to listen to his explanation.

But before Martin can tell him why he’s here and what has happened, my omega blushes in a deep shade of red, which is quiet impressive considering his fair skin tone, and mumbles desperately that he needs to pee. I can see how embarrassed he feels about this and his mortification only grows when Martin tells him that he should just relax and do it.

“I don’t want to pee into the bed. I’m not a little kid.” He sounds so indignant, like Martin and I have just propositioned him. But then I realize that he’s probably not in possession of all the facts. Martin realizes it at the same time and hurries to explain. 

“You have a catheter in your urethra, Mike. Just relax. You will not wet the bed. I promise.”

When Mike looks at me, I nod at him encouragingly but I can see that this doesn’t do anything to reassure him. When I try to put myself in his shoes I’m suddenly able to understand.

I couldn’t take a piss while two other guys were watching me either.

“Why don’t we give Mike some privacy, Martin? I’m sure that I wouldn’t be able to relax if someone was watching me.”

I can see that Martin isn’t sure about this but then he trusts my instincts. Before we leave, he pushes the remote control for the bed with the call button into Mike’s hand so he can call for us when he needs us.

“Just relax, Mike. It’s like normal peeing. When you’re done, press the call-button.”

We leave the room and the door closes behind us.

For a moment we just look at each other but then I just need to ask.

“How do you know?”

“What?”

“That it’s like normal peeing.”

He gets what I mean and just shrugs. “Not from personal experience, if that’s what you’re asking. But I asked patients and they told me that once you get over the mental barrier it feels almost the same. Well, without the noise, of course.”

We fall silent after that, both of us thinking about how Mike is doing.

“Do you think he has problems?” I ask after a few more minutes. The kid surely takes his time.

“Just give him a moment. His restraints would give Houdini a run for his money so he’s safe and if he needs a few moments of alone time, I think we owe him that.”

“Sorry. You’re right.”

He laughs. “I get it. Every second he isn’t in your line of sight makes you nervous. Frankly, I was surprised when you suggested we leave him alone.”

“I just think that it will be counter-productive if I push him too far too fast. Trust needs to be earned and right now he has no reason to trust me. I think he doesn’t even know that I’m his alpha.”

The light over the doorframe begins to flash, indicating that Mike is ready for us to come back.

“Well, then I think it’s high time we tell him.”

**********

When we come back into his room I can see that Mike is a lot more relaxed than before and I understand how urgent it has been for him.

“Feeling a little better now?” It’s meant as an ice-breaker but as soon as I see the blush creeping back into his cheeks I know that he still feels embarrassed. I think I would too, if I were in his place.

He nods his head and turns his attention on Martin, which irks me somehow. He shouldn’t prefer other alphas over me. But when he asks if he can get rid of the catheter now that he’s awake, my jealousy quiets down again. It’s only natural that he poses this question to his doctor.

I look curiously at Martin and after a moment’s thought he agrees.

“Okay, yes, I can do that. And the fact that you were aware of your need to urinate is a good sign. It means that you’re getting some control over your body back.”

Mike looks down at himself and I can totally understand why he wants to get rid of the tube in his penis. Just thinking about it makes me shudder, although Martin has assured me that it isn’t painful. It’s more of a mind-thing but nevertheless, it’s nothing I would want to experience myself.

Martin uses the call button to summon a nurse to ask for some supplies he needs in order to remove the catheter. When she comes back and they both begin to prepare Mike, I’m feeling like a third wheel. The kid’s ears are glowing again and maybe now is not the right time to get that intimately acquainted. But when I tell Martin that I want to leave to give Mike some privacy, he asks me to stay and distract the patient.

So I try to make the best of this awkward situation. I turn around to my beet-root colored omega and take his restrained hands into mine, so he can hold onto something. The fact that he immediately grips my fingers is encouraging.

To make him feel better I tell him that I’m a little embarrassed myself. Maybe if he knows that we share this feeling he won’t be so mortified about the whole thing. I keep my eyes firmly fixed on his and tell him he should do the same so we can pretend that nothing else is happening right now. Then I try to make some small talk as if Martin isn’t just touching his penis.

“Do you like Central Park?” I know it’s a dumb question but I’m still trying to push the picture of Martin’s hands on Mike’s penis out of my mind. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

“Yeah, I guess,” the kid responds but then he yelps a little and his whole face scrunches up in a very peculiar grimace. The grip of his fingers on mine gets stronger and I wince in sympathy. Poor guy. Then he gasps, first relieved but then he begins to moan. I can only guess how painful this must be for him.

He’s starting to sweat and his breathing is getting a little bit heavier as well. His head on the pillow shifts from side to side and his eyes are firmly closed. He seems totally caught up in what is happening down there and I try to snap him out of it.

“Come on Mike, eyes back to me. I’m sure it will be over soon.” His eyes fly open and lock onto mine and it looks like he tries to calm himself down.

When Martin tells him it is done and that the pain should subside in a few minutes he seems relieved. His urethra is probably still a little sensitive but now, without any more manipulation, he should feel better soon. At least that’s what I hope.

The nurse bundles up all the stuff but I only take my eyes off Mike’s face when I’m sure that he is covered again. Not that I don’t want to see all of him. Even in this injured and frail state he’s in I think he’s beautiful. I could never think him anything but. But I understand that this must be hard for him and I don’t want to alienate him to me by being too pushy.

Martin and I resume our former posts beside his bed, but this time he turns his head towards me and fixes me with his intelligent blue eyes. Even if Martin hadn’t told me how smart Mike is, I’m able to see it in his eyes. There’s this spark in them that I find irresistible and I’m not entirely sure that this is only due to biology.

When he asks his question, his voice is a little bit pushy and demanding and I have an inkling that he isn’t one of these timid and boring omegas who only live to please their alphas. No, this one has personality and it slowly begins to shine through.

“Look man, I know that we’ve met before and I know you’ve been here at the hospital for a while but could you please explain to me why? Who are you, dude?”

Dude? Really? I nearly scoff at that word. I hate to be called dude. It’s totally undignified, if not outright disrespectful, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t allow anyone to call me that. Not even Donna. On pure principle I start to protest but then I catch Mike staring at my mouth and that distracts me enough to let it slide. I guess he has earned some leeway since this whole situation is new and frightening for him. So a little bit of attitude might perhaps be expected.

Instead of scolding him for calling me dude I introduce myself to him properly. And while I’m at it I apologize for attacking him during my rut. I haven’t done that yet and I know that I owe him one for my lack of self-control.

Mike gracefully accepts it and even gives me a little smile to show me that he has no hard feelings. Well, that’s a good start. All in all, Mike seems to take things remarkably well. There is no sign of another panic attack and the heart monitor beeps steadily. Maybe yesterday has been a fluke. Come to think of it, it must have been a shock to wake up to all of this so maybe we shouldn’t take his reaction too seriously.

So, since he has accepted my apology I give him the most important bit of information so far. I’m not tiptoeing around it or building up to it, though. Instead, I dive right in to get it over with. I can tell him later about the finer points of this story.

“It’s quite a long story actually but the gist is, I’m your alpha.” There, now it’s out in the open.

Somehow I’ve had a feeling that Mike would not be thrilled by this. I know that this is literally life-changing for him, so a little bit of a shock was to be expected, but I’m not quite prepared for this horrified expression on his face.

I try to not take it personally. He doesn’t know me yet and he hasn’t experienced what I’ve experienced when I was in rut and after that. The suppressants have shielded him from that. And he’s still fighting with himself. I know all of this on a rational level. But then, why does his rejection still hurt so much?

“No, that can’t be right. I don’t have an alpha. It can’t be you.”

And there’s the panic back in his voice. Hearing him denying that I’m his mate tears my heart out of my chest. I know that he doesn’t mean to hurt me. It’s not malice or anything like that. He’s just not ready yet to accept it. He has been alone for almost half of his life and learning that he’ll never be alone again must be incomprehensible to him.

I strengthen my grip on his hand like I fear that he will try to yank it away. Instead, he looks away from me and over to Martin like he’s hoping to find an ally there.

But Martin only confirms what I have just told him.

“It’s true Mike. I’ve done the blood test myself. And the lab ran it twice since they couldn’t believe the result. Harvey is your alpha. There’s no doubt about it. And you’re a 98.7 % match.”

He doesn’t seem pleased in the slightest when he hears this result. But he stops arguing, probably knowing that there is nothing he can say to talk himself out of this. I don’t know if this reaction is a good or bad sign. I guess only time will tell.

We give him some time to let it sink in but instead of asking what this means, Mike changes the topic and wants to know about his injuries. Maybe he needs a little distraction from this incredible revelation.

I let Martin do the explanations regarding the accident and his other medical issues and Mike focuses his full attention on him. The expression on his face becomes a little peculiar when Martin tells him that the suppressants could have caused infertility but I can’t get a proper read on his feelings regarding that matter. Maybe he needs a little time to evaluate how he feels about it. And like I said earlier- all I care about is his well-being. And there’s more than one way to become a family if that’s what Mike wants sometime in the future.

The longer Martin talks, the calmer Mike seems to get and I’m not sure if he’s listening to Martin anymore. Sure, he still looks at him but his eyes have this far away expression, like his mind is somewhere else. Suddenly his face scrunches up in pain, if only for a brief second. Then he moans and Martin immediately stops talking and shifts back into doctor-mode. When he asks Mike if he’s in pain, my omega tells us about his headache and from the way his voice sounds he must really be in a lot of pain. That certainly explains the odd expression he had on his face earlier.

Martin touches his forehead, probably to see if the fever is back but I can’t help the little frown on my face and when Martin notices it, he retreats his hand. I hate that I can’t take care of my omega, at least not fully, but I trust Martin so I need to work on my possessiveness when he’s around.

When Mike tells us that he’s thirsty I could kick myself – and Martin. Neither of us has thought about getting Mike something to drink. He probably doesn’t need it since he’s getting the fluids through his IV-line but we should’ve asked nevertheless. His mouth must be dry like a desert, poor guy.

Martin immediately stands up and leaves to get Mike some water.

I expect that Mike feels uncomfortable with only me around. I understand that he needs to come to terms with this new situation. But then he turns his head and looks at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

He tries to raise his hand from the mattress and asks me in a weak and shy voice if we can’t get the restraints off him. His whole demeanor has changed notably by now and I begin to hope that he’s already accepting me as his alpha.

“It’s really frightening to be so helpless. And I promise that I won’t do anything bad anymore. It was just because I was so scared and confused. But now I understand.”

The wide blue eyes gaze into mine and his lower lip starts to tremble a bit, like he’s trying to be brave but failing. I love the fact that he trusts me enough to ask for my help. Maybe this will be easier than I had thought when he already turns to me when he’s distressed.

I give him an encouraging smile but before I can say anything, Martin comes back with a sippy cup and hands it to me. I guess it’s easier to let Mike drink from this than from a normal glass.

To show Mike that I’m on his side I tell Martin about Mike’s request.

“Mike asked me if we can take off his restraints. I guess that he’s feeling a little helpless and he has promised to behave himself.” My tone of voice makes it clear, that I’m okay with that and I think that Martin will be happy about this as well. I’ve seen how he felt when we restrained Mike yesterday evening.

“Hm,” Martin hums thoughtfully and then he cups Mike’s face and for a moment I want to intervene. But then I can see that the doc is onto something. He wouldn’t invade my territory for no good reason, so I trust him and stay calm. At least outwardly.

The silence stretches a little longer and I can see that my omega is getting nervous. Which is odd. Up until now he has trusted Martin more than me so why does he start to squirm under the doc’s gaze now?

Suddenly Martin grins down at Mike before he looks up at me and winks.

“I think we’ll leave them on for the time being.”

“Why?” I understand that something’s going on right now but I need an explanation.

“You see, Harvey, Mike here has this specific tell when he’s up to something. Always has, from back when he was a 10 year old boy, trying to wiggle out of an assignment he deemed too boring or beneath him.”

Martin looks back down at my omega and his grin widens. “Mike’s a licker and a nibbler. Meaning when you see him lick his lower lip and then start nibbling at it with his front teeth, he has mischief in mind.”

I look at Mike’s mouth where his lower lip is still caught between his teeth and now slips slowly out between them. The deep blush on the kids face tells me everything I need to know and I laugh.

This little minx! He isn’t in pain. This was all an act to get his hands free.

When he scowls up at me like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar I only laugh harder and Martin joins me. Mike just looks so cute like this although I can see that he isn’t amused by our mirth. But I can’t help it. Knowing that Mike is already well enough to try to scheme his way out of this is such good news for both of us. Sure, it might make things a little harder for us, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge.

I can’t help myself any longer. I lean forward and nuzzle my face against his fuzzy cheek. The smell of my omega makes me almost moan with want but I suppress this feeling. Instead I decide to tease him a little bit.

“Busted, buddy,” I whisper in his ear but I keep my voice light and friendly to let him know that I’m not angry.

He makes this tiny harrumph noise in his throat and I decide that I need to be gracious about it and give him an out without hurting his pride. That he got caught should be enough of a punishment.

So I sit back and show him the cup.

“Are you still thirsty?”

I can see in his eyes how he battles with himself. I know that he wants to refuse it just on principle and when I try to put myself in his shoes I can understand how bad he must feel. For someone who always fought to be independent this must be hell. But I also know that we can’t risk that he might hurt himself again. Maybe tomorrow though, when he has had a little more time to come to grips with all of this.

He licks his lips subconsciously but this time it’s really because his mouth is dry. So without further ado, I press the spout lightly against his lips and he opens them, still scowling up at me.

That’s when I know for sure that Mike will never be a timid or demure omega, even when his hormones are finally back to normal. And he will also never be boring. Which is just perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you want to drop me a line in the comment section, I would like that very much. And kudos is also very much appreciated.


	12. Mike's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 of Mike's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and for your continued support.

I’m too thirsty to refuse the water, even if I have to drink it from the sippy cup held by Harvey, but after I’m done drinking, my cooperation with this two alpha-jerks is at an end. Done! Over! Finito!

I close my eyes and ignore them as best as I can, for this is the only thing I can do right now to let them know what I think about them and the way they treat me. Well, short of yelling at them and calling them all the names in my quite extensive swearword repertoire, but I’ve too much self-respect to have them laugh at me again. And anyway, I’m not quite sure if I really want to burn all bridges. Sure, it would feel great to vent, but it wouldn’t help my case one iota, so I grudgingly hold my tongue although I have to admit, for a moment there it’s touch and go.

After a while Martin seems to get the message, gives up and leaves the room, but Harvey is stubborn and resumes to read to me from _The Hobbit_. I try to not listen to him but this soon becomes futile. I’m still not back to my old self and my mental defenses are down. After a few minutes of raging internally against the injustice of my life, Fortuna and the universe in general, I can’t help that I start to listen to Harvey’s voice again. I don’t want to, but it sort of sneaks up on me and before I’m aware what’s happening I’m already listening to that warm, velvety voice reading me the story. I don’t really know at which point I slip back into sleep but I think I must have dozed off for a while.

I wake up when a nurse comes into my room and talks to Harvey but I deliberately keep my eyes closed, feigning sleep.

“I brought you a chicken sandwich, Harvey. I know what they say about hospital food, but this is actually quite good.”

He thanks her and that reminds me that I haven’t eaten in quite some time. In fact, the last time has been around noon the day I took the LSAT for Harold. I have no idea how long ago that was. I don’t even know today’s date. So, how long exactly have I been sleeping?

All of a sudden I feel a warm hand on my forehead but it’s small so it must be the nurse’s. Probably taking my body temperature again. They seem to do that a lot. Or maybe they think that their patients like that sort of stuff. You know, the touching and petting. After all, I’m in an omega hospital and in general omegas are known to like the touchy-feely stuff. All the more reason for me to avoid such sort of thing. Well, up until now. I guess that I don’t need to be that careful anymore since the cat is already out of the bag.

Then a tugging at my nose starts and despite my best efforts I just need to know what that’s about so I blink my eyes open.

“Hey Mike. You’re awake.” The nurse gives me a sunny smile while her hands are fumbling with something near my face. I go almost cross-eyed in an attempt to see what she’s doing.

“Relax Mike. I just give you your food.” She holds up a big syringe full of light brown gooey stuff and I can see that it is attached to a clear flexible tube that slowly fills with it when she presses down on the stopper.

“What?” I think I know what that’s about but I would like an explanation nevertheless.

“You have a nasogastric tube in your nose, Mike. You’re so thin and we needed to get some calories into you.”

I guess that makes kind of sense. And I already knew that I had a tube stuck in my right nostril. “Oh, okay.” It’s so odd that I can talk while I eat at the same time. Well, without having my table manners criticized, that is. 

A thought pops into my head but this time I avoid to look at Harvey and try my luck with the nurse. And it isn’t an unreasonable request I’m making.

“Can’t I eat normal, now that I’m awake?”

Harvey’s chicken sandwich is still on my mind and when I fleetingly glance over to him, the sight of it makes my mouth water a little bit. I’m not exactly hungry, not in a stomach growling kind of way, but I would very much like to eat something that I can actually taste and feel in my mouth.

She shakes her head at me. “I can get you something to eat the normal way but we still need to continue with the tube feeding. You need huge amounts of calories to make up for your malnutrition and you couldn’t take that in by eating it the normal way.”

I squint at her, not sure if she’s bullshitting me and she picks up on my skepticism.

“What’s in this tube I’m feeding you right now is probably the equivalent of a pizza with extra cheese, only a little healthier. It’s about 1000 calories you’re taking in with one meal. And your body needs every one of them.”

_Pizza! Yummy._ I could eat a pizza or two I think.

From the smile on her face she can probably see what I’m thinking right now.

“Tell you what. Let’s finish with the tube feeding and then I will bring you something you can put into your mouth, okay?”

“Thanks. That would be great.”

I close my eyes again and let her do her thing while Harvey eats his sandwich. I can hear him chew and there must be some salad on it since there’s some faint crunching.

When she’s done feeding me and has tucked the tube out of the way behind my ear, the nurse leaves us, taking Harvey’s plate away with her. I pointedly ignore him again when he asks me if I would like to hear some more of _The Hobbit_ and he sighs but then resumes his reading nevertheless. Honestly! What does it take to discourage that stubborn sonofabitch?

After a while the door is pushed open again and my eyes fly open in anticipation. What did she get me? A sandwich? Or maybe a slice of pizza? That would be awesome.

She’s holding a bowl in her hands and my hope shatters slightly. Harvey takes it from her and she leaves again. Damn! I guess Harvey is feeding me then. Which kinda sucks since it crimps my plan to ignore him big time.

He lowers the rail on my left side and scoots closer. Then he lifts the spoon and I can see brownish sludge dripping down from it.

“Ugh. What’s that?” I can’t help that my voice sounds taken aback at the sight of this stuff.

He studies it carefully. “I think it’s called gruel. You know, very thin porridge.”

I shudder inwardly. “I don’t want that. That’s disgusting. I want pizza or a sandwich.” Yeah, I know that I sound like a three-year old throwing a temper tantrum but you gotta understand how nasty that stuff looks. Kinda like it has been eaten once already. Ugh!

“I don’t think that your stomach is ready for pizza or a sandwich,” Harvey tries to reason with me. “You’ve been on high caloric astronaut’s food for a week now and we need to take it slow or you’ll get sick.”

“If you like it so much than you can have it.” Yeah, still not done with my tantrum. If I weren’t restraint I would’ve probably kicked my heel against the mattress and crossed my arms in front of my chest but all I can do is pout, so I do that.

He looks at me thoughtfully and then he brings the spoon to his mouth and tastes the sludge tentatively. After he’s smacked his lips a little he gives his verdict.

“You know, it’s not so bad. It’s not totally smooth so you can feel at least some texture in your mouth and it tastes sweet. I think there’s some honey in there.”

I press my lips firmly together and turn my head away from him to get my message across, but this time I might have overdone it slightly.

From the corner of my eye I can see it when he puts the bowl on the nightstand and then he uses his hand to turn my head to make me look at him. His touch on my cheek is firm but gentle and I hate that I can’t offer him any real resistance. Being weak sucks so much.

“I know that this isn’t what you had in mind, Mike. But your stomach isn’t used to solid food and I don’t want you to get a stomach-ache or worse, get sick and throw everything back up. So you have two options. You can eat a little bit of this gruel and when your stomach tolerates it we can slowly get you on solids within the next few meals, or you can be stubborn about it and we just continue to tube feed you. Your choice.” For the first time his voice sounds stern and unwavering, an alpha’s voice, and I know that there’s no use in trying to bargain with him.

“This sucks,” I air my thoughts in a mumble but I can feel my resolve wavering nevertheless. If I need to gobble this stuff down in order to get pizza later then there’s not much I can do except keep my eyes on the finish line.

“Yes. I know,” Harvey agrees. Then he lets go of my face, but not before he has swept a thumb over my cheek in some sort of caress. I can’t decide whether I like it or if I find it presumptuous.

“So, what about it?” He has picked up the bowl again and shows it to me as he poses his question.

Grudgingly I open my mouth and he spoons the stuff into it. When I close my mouth and swallow, still scowling at him, he gives me a smile and I notice that his warm brown eyes have this golden flecks glinting in them. Must be a trick of the light. Nobody has such nice eyes.

“Good boy,” he praises me and my heart skips a beat. Frankly, I’ve no idea what that’s about.

**********

Later, when it is getting dark, two male orderlies bring in a camp bed and set it up next to mine. Harvey vanishes into the bathroom while one of the male nurses helps me do my business into a plastic bottle and when he comes back out he’s only wearing a t-shirt and sweat-shorts, obviously planning to sleep in them. I’m not staring at him or anything like that, but I have to sneak a peek to see what’s what.

His shorts are a little tight around his hips and before I can help myself I notice that he has a nice butt. Round and muscular. And his biceps stretches the sleeves of his snug t-shirt a little, so it’s not bad either. _Argh!_ Where are these thoughts coming from? _Get a grip, Mike!_ You don’t even like that guy. He’s a pompous, presumptuous alpha, like every other alpha you ever met. Well, perhaps with Martin being the exception to that rule.

During the last couple of hours I have resumed with my silent treatment although mostly due to the fact that eating half a bowl of baby food had wiped me out and I fell asleep again.

I can see that Harvey has his laptop put up on the little table in the corner and there are also some files so I guess he’s working while watching over me.

Martin comes in again and the two men greet each other like friends and talk a little before he turns to me.

“Hi Mike. How’re you doing?”

“Good, I guess.” I’m not sure what he wants me to say so I keep it simple, just in case.

“Stomach okay?”

I force myself to smile, knowing what the purpose of that question is. “Yeah. And I’m actually a little hungry again.”

He smiles relieved back at me and I suddenly understand that this was a real concern for him. “That’s great. Let me see what I can do for you.” He asks me if the nurse has explained about the tube feeding and I recap the information so he knows I’m in the loop. Then he sits down on the edge of my bed and explains to me how things will progress from here.

“We try to get you back on solid food but we need to take it slow. In the meantime we supplement your diet with the tube-feeding. As soon as your stomach is back in working order, we will wean you off the tube but we need to monitor your weight, especially when we start with the physical therapy. I will ask one of our nutritionists to come see you and Harvey in the next days to explain everything in a little more detail. But for tonight, let’s get you some food. Harvey thought that maybe you would like something savory instead of something sweet? How about it?”

I’m a little surprised about that since I haven’t said anything to Harvey. How the hell did he know? Am I that obvious? But maybe he’s just good at guessing. Anyhow, I’m happy if I can have something other than the thin baby food.

“Yeah, something salty would be nice.”

“Alright, Mike. Something salty coming right up.”

The doctor leaves again but when he returns after just a few minutes, I can smell that the bowl contains something else this time. It smells delicious and he probably can see how my face lights up.

“I’ve brought you some chicken broth with some vegetables and sliced up chicken in it.” Nothing I would like to eat under normal circumstances but I swear, right now this stuff smells better than anything I’ve ever eaten.

Harvey takes the bowl from him and falls back into our routine from earlier. I really hate that my hands are still restraint but I fear that if I complain they will take the food away and I can’t risk that. The smell is just too delicious. Yeah, okay. I’m a food whore, so sue me.

The first mouthful tastes heavenly and I think I actually moan with delight.

“Good?” Harvey inquires with a smile and I involuntarily smile back at him, nearly dribbling some soup on myself in the process, before I can remember that I don’t like him.

The next spoonful approaches my mouth and after having swallowed the last remnants down, I open up willingly. Around the 5th or 6th mouthful I suddenly realize that I feel quite content with this situation even so I’m helpless. But the way Harvey takes care of me feels sort of nice and not really scary anymore. I know that I probably should rage against this but right now I don’t have the energy for it. Or maybe this is the beginning of Stockholm’s syndrome? Hm, whatever the reason, I must remember to remain vigilant, just in case.

Halfway through my meal I catch Harvey giving a meaningful look in Martin’s direction and when I turn my head to glance at the doc the next spoonful bumps against my cheek and spills its contents down my hospital gown.

“Shit. I’m so sorry Mike. Did I burn you with the soup?”

I’ve flinched when the spoon spilled the warm liquid on me, but only with surprise and not because it hurt. But Harvey seems to think that he has caused me pain and his eyes look so sad and full of remorse. 

“No, it’s only warm and it was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have turned my head.” He had sounded so crestfallen and I feel the urge to soothe him but why, I have no idea. I should be glad that he feels bad but somehow I don’t.

Martin is already at it, wiping my face and neck with a wet-wipe, but the chest area of my hospital gown is soaked through with the broth. When my face and neck are as clean as they gonna get, Martin waves Harvey over to a corner of the room but I can’t hear what they’re whispering about. But then both of them are back at my side and helping me out of the gown. This time, they slide a big white t-shirt over my head. In order to get my arms through, they carefully unfasten and fasten my restraints one after the other but I just let it happen to show them that I can be trusted. And anyway, what would be the point of fighting against the two of them right now?

Harvey lets Martin do all the intimate stuff. I guess he’s still trying to respect my privacy and I really appreciate this. When I’m finally clean and clothed I suddenly feel bone tired.

Harvey holds up the bowl with the rest of the broth but I shake my head.

“I’m tired,” I try to explain so he doesn’t think I’m mad at him and I have no idea why I even care about his feelings, but somehow I do. He just nods understandingly and puts the soup away.

“That’s okay. Today was a big day for you, Mike. Don’t worry. I will stay here with you.”

That wasn’t exactly what I was worried about but I don’t contradict him.

I close my eyes and I can feel how I drift off but then I become aware of this nice and comforting smell that surrounds me. It makes me feel safe and cozy and my whole body relaxes in the knowledge that I’m cherished and loved. Before I can wonder where this notion suddenly comes from, I’m fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you want to drop me a line, please feel free. I'm always happy to read your comments. And Kudos is always appreciated as well.


	13. Harvey's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 of Harvey's Story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your nice comments and your continued support.

After Mike has first tentatively but then almost greedily gulped down the water, he closes his eyes and ignores us in the most pointed way he possibly can. Nevertheless, we try to talk to him a little more, explain things and encourage him to ask us questions but when he shows no reaction to us, we leave him be. Maybe he needs some time to think and process everything. After all, the things that happened in the last hour must be a little overwhelming.

Martin leaves us to make his rounds and for a moment I think about working for a bit to give Mike a little space, if not literally than at least figuratively. But then I decide that I can be stubborn as well. He can try to ignore me all he likes but I will make it as hard for him as I possibly can. So I pick up the book and resume reading the story to him.

Every now and then I look up at him and even though in the beginning there’s still this little frown on his forehead, it smooths itself out over time and at the end of the chapter he looks relaxed and content again. I have no idea how I know that he’s listening to me but I do. Then his breathing gets a little deeper and more even and his head turns slightly to the side on the pillow as if his neck muscles have relaxed. I don’t need to hear the little snore to know that he’s fallen asleep again. I mark the page but read on for a couple more pages until I stop, just to be on the safe side.

Two hours later my work is interrupted by Sarah, one of the nurses, who brings me something to eat. I’ve totally forgotten about lunch, for once captivated by my work. You should think that the presence of my omega might be distracting to me but it’s the opposite. The fact that he’s in my line of sight and that I know he’s safe and sound, gives my productivity a burst. I’ve even done all the financial statements for the merger, which I normally leave to Louis since it bores me out of my mind. I’m just not a numbers guy. Doesn’t mean I can’t do math, though; just that I don’t like it.

“I brought you a chicken sandwich, Harvey. I know what they say about hospital food but this is actually quite good.”

“Thank you Sarah. That’s very kind of you.” I smile at her and hope she’s right. I’ve already had some food from the cafeteria and frankly, I think I’d rather go hungry than repeat that experience. Okay, maybe if I’m at the verge of starving I will try their version of Mac’n Cheese again, but only then.

I put my files away and place the plate in my lap while I unwrap the sandwich. I give it a quick sniff and it seems edible.

While I eat I watch Sarah prepare to feed Mike through his nasogastric tube. He still hasn’t opened his eyes but the longer I watch him the more I become convinced that he’s awake. Still trying to avoid me then, my little fighter. I actually like that he’s not a push-over. 

Sarah connects the big syringe with the high caloric food, which has the consistency of thin baby food, to his tube but the tugging at his nose must have alarmed Mike since he opens his eyes right at this moment.

“Hey Mike. You’re awake,” Sarah greets him with a smile. She and her colleagues are almost all omegas with only a few betas, most of them male, as exception and all of them are nice and sweet-tempered. I guess that this is normal in this line of work. Or maybe it is because they work in an omega hospital. I never really thought about that. I need to ask Martin later.

Anyway, Sarah begins chatting to Mike while she pushes down the stopper of the syringe. At first he seems a little surprised even though we’ve told him about all the things we’ve undertaken to make him better. I guess he hasn’t really listened so well to Martin. Maybe learning that he has an alpha was a little bit befuddling after all.

But this time I can see that he really listens to Sarah and understands what is happening to him. And I take it as a very good sign when he poses the next question.

“Can’t I eat normal, now that I’m awake?”

I’ve just started on the second half of my sandwich and even though he tries to look at the nurse I can see his gaze flicker over to me, or to be more precise, to my food. And I totally get him.

Since Martin has discussed this tube-feeding matter with me a few days earlier I know what her response will be, though.

“I can get you something to eat the normal way but we still need to continue with the tube feeding. You need huge amounts of calories to make up for your malnutrition and you couldn’t take that in by eating it the normal way.”

I keep my eyes on my sandwich to give them some semblance of privacy with their conversation. But obviously Mike does something so that Sarah feels the need to explain further.

“What’s in this tube I’m feeding you right now is probably the equivalent of a pizza with extra cheese, only a little healthier. It’s about 1000 calories you’re taking in with one meal. And your body needs every one of them.”

She pauses for a moment before she continues. “Tell you what. Let’s finish with the tube feeding and then I will bring you something you can put into your mouth.”

“Thanks. That would be great.” I can hear the relief in Mike’s voice and I hope he’s aware that he’s a long way away from pizza or steak. I know that she’s talking about soft, bland food so his stomach won’t get irritated by it. Well, I guess he’ll see.

Sarah empties the first syringe into the tube and then takes a second and repeats the process. Even though the food is high caloric, it’s easy to digest and will allow him to put on some weight in a healthy way. While she does her thing, Mike has opted to close his eyes again. I guess he doesn’t like to look at me eating my sandwich.

When Sarah is done she takes the supplies and my plate with her. I make another attempt of talking to Mike but he still ignores me, even when I ask him if he wants me to read to him again. Okay, so he’s stubborn. But guess what! So am I.

I pick up the book and start reading again, right at the page I marked when I thought he had drifted off before.

Sarah comes back after a few minutes and hands me a bowl. Yep. Like I thought. It’s some sort of baby food with the consistency of slurry. But it doesn’t smell so bad although the sight is not appealing.

I lower the rail on my side of the bed and scoot closer. He eyes me warily and I guess he isn’t happy that I’m the one feeding him. But like Martin said: I need to establish a bond with him and getting his food from me will help that along.

When I dip the spoon into the stuff and lift it up his whole face scrunches up with disgust.

“Ugh. What’s that?” His tone of voice makes it even clearer than his words how appalled he is by the sight of this stuff. 

“I think it’s called gruel. You know, very thin porridge.” Porridge sounds a little more appealing than pap or slurry I hope. But obviously Mike wants to make this difficult.

“I don’t want that. That’s disgusting. I want pizza or a sandwich.” Now he begins to sound like a little kid on the verge of throwing a tantrum but I stay calm and try to reason with him.

“I don’t think that your stomach is ready for pizza or a sandwich. You’ve been on high caloric astronaut’s food for a week now and we need to take it slow or you’ll get sick.”

“If you like it so much than you can have it,” he dares me with a defiant glare.

Okay. If that’s what he wants. I can lead by example. When he sees that it isn’t so bad, then maybe he will be willing to give it a try. I taste the gruel tentatively and I actually don’t have to lie when I tell him that it isn’t too bad. Some of the oats haven’t dissolved completely so there’s some texture in there and it tastes sweet, like honey. It’s nothing I would want to eat myself on a daily basis but I guess if I had an upset stomach, this stuff would do the trick.

But he still wants to be obstinate about it. He presses his mouth shut until his lips become a thin, white line and he looks pointedly away from me and the food. I just know if he could, he would’ve crossed his arms in front of his chest as well and for a moment I want to chuckle at the sight of his stubborn face. He’s kinda cute like this. But his behavior is once again very close to self-harm so it’s time to nip that in the bud. Like Donna said, there’s a time to be his friend and a time to be his alpha. And now is alpha-time.

I put the bowl away for now and from the nervous look he gives me I can see that he has picked up on the slight shift in my attitude. But I need to pull through if I want to have any chance of handling him in the future.

He tries to avoid my gaze but I use a hand on his cheek to make him look at me. When I speak I make sure to sound composed and in control so he knows I mean every word I say.

“I know that this isn’t what you had in mind, Mike. But your stomach isn’t used to solid food anymore and I don’t want you to get a stomach ache or get sick and throw everything back up. So you have two options. You can eat a little bit of this gruel and when your stomach tolerates it we can slowly get you on solids within the next few meals or you can be stubborn about it and we just continue to tube feed you. Your choice.”

I hold his eyes with mine and I can see it when he gives in, even though he needs a few seconds for it.

“This sucks,” he mumbles defiantly but I can see that it’s only for show.

“Yes. I know.”

I pick up the bowl and show it to him again, giving him once more a choice. “So, what about it?”

Instead of giving me an answer, he opens his mouth and I carefully feed him the first spoonful. He swallows it hesitantly, still scowling slightly but I decide to praise him nevertheless. He’s willing to do something even though he hates it and this is all I can demand of him now. But since he’s still behaving like a little boy I praise him in a way that reflects on that.

“Good boy.”

I expect the frown to deepen but instead his pupils dilate slightly and he gives me a somewhat shocked look.

Hm! That’s interesting.

**********

After he has eaten maybe a third of the porridge Mike suddenly yawns and his eyelids begin to drop slightly, which reminds me that he’s still recuperating. I get one more spoonful into him but then he turns his head away, making it clear that he’s done for now and I let him be. 

He’s back at ignoring me but can’t relish in it because he falls asleep shortly afterwards. When Nurse Sarah comes in to get the bowl he doesn’t wake up. I guess all the talking and eating and fighting has wiped him out.

“He did quite well,” Sarah remarks when she picks up the bowl. 

“Really? He hasn’t eaten that much.”

“For his first real meal in over a week, this is really good. And his stomach was already filled.”

“I don’t think he liked it all that much. Maybe we can try something else the next time?”

She stares down into the bowl thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t look all that appetizing,” she admits with a shrug.

“No, not really. And I have a feeling that he will like something savory better.”

“Did he say something?”

“No, it’s just a feeling. He’s not really talking much to me.” Maybe she can hear in my voice that this bothers me more than I care to admit, because she sits down in the chair next to me.

Her hands are wrapped around the bowl, but I can feel that she’s nervous so I try to make her more comfortable in my presence.

“If you want to say something, please do. I can use all the help I can get.” I tilt my head so I can look in her face although her head is slightly bowed.

She exhales deeply but then she briefly meets my gaze and I smile at her in the hope that it will put her at ease.

“Dr. Miller told us, the staff I mean, about Mike. About his past. And that he doesn’t want to be an omega.” He eyes wander over to him and I follow her lead. Mike’s still fast asleep, though. Poor kid. I reach out and take his slightly curled fingers into my hand.

“My parents are really supportive, especially my dad. He’s the alpha. When I wanted to become a nurse, he defended my choice against my mom, who wanted to see me settled sooner. In the end he persuaded her that my having a profession and gaining a little bit more experience can only benefit me. He even held off with registering me to a matching agency until I finished my training. I thought life would go on like this.”

I have a notion where this is heading but I stay silent and only give her another encouraging smile.

“I finished my training six months ago. When my parents told me that they submitted my profile to an agency, I panicked.” She blushes a little and I can see that this conversation is hard for her so I appreciate it all the more.

“You see, I have some freedom. And I’ve made an arrangement for my heat with a friend of the family, so that’s covered. When the agency found a match for me, I actually cried because I was so scared. I knew that my parents wouldn’t go through with it if I didn’t like the alpha, but still, having my life changed so profoundly was the scariest thing that ever happened to me.” She looks back at Mike but this time my focus stays on her. After a few minutes her gaze shifts back at me and she finally meets my eyes for more than a second.

“You see, I was scared, even though I had nothing to fear. My parents love me and want me to be happy. And I’m content with being an omega. But Mike… he doesn’t have that. He was always alone and without a family to support him. And I can only guess how terrified he must be. All this attitude and bravado and the fighting… I think it’s just a façade and deep inside he must be scared out of his wits.”

I let this sink in for a while. I try to put myself in the kid’s shoes but I guess there’s no way I can ever understand what it feels like to be this kind of helpless. And even though I know that he has nothing to fear from me, he doesn’t know that - yet.

“What do you suggest I do?”

She smiles openly at me. “Be patient and kind. Show him that he can trust you. And give him time to get to know you better.” She nods firmly. “Yes, I think time is the most important thing. I know that some alphas think that being a high match should be enough, but it isn’t. Pheromones and all that stuff isn’t enough if you don’t trust or even like your alpha. Biology is just one side of the thing. Feelings matter too.”

“Did you find your alpha?” Now her face truly lights up and I know that she has no reason to be scared anymore.

“Yes. His name is Andrew – Andy, and he’s great. He’s a medical student at Columbia so our interests match and he supports my working as a nurse. We dated for some time but he never made a move on me. He gave me time to get to know him, as a person I mean and not just as my alpha. And he wanted to know about me, too. We always just talked, sometimes for hours, and there were some casual touches and even a good night kiss on the cheek but nothing more. I finally got so frustrated that one night after our 10th date I took the first step and kissed him. Later he admitted that my father had told him how scared I was. So he held himself back and let me come to him instead.”

I think about what she’s told me. Could I wait so long? And what if Mike would never want to make the first step?

“That sounds like good advice but I don’t know if my self-control is that good. And he is stubborn. This might be the most frustrating thing I’ve ever done.”

She looks at me with the peculiar expression that makes her look wiser than her years. “Letting him make the first move doesn’t necessarily mean that you can’t cheat a little. You could use your biology. If it’s affecting you it will most likely affect him as well. But you’re used to it – he isn’t.” She actually winks at me and I’m a little confused.

“Why are you helping me? Shouldn’t there be some sort of solidarity between omegas?”

“Oh, but there is.” She turns her head to look at my sleeping omega. “I want him to be as happy as I am. And I’m truly happy now that my dad and Andy pushed me a little so I could overcome my fear. And I can see that you’re a good guy and really care for him. He comes with a lot of baggage, physically and mentally, and if you only wanted…” She trails off, suddenly afraid that I might be offended.

“If I only wanted a trophy omega to show off with or someone to have sex with I wouldn’t be here, you mean.”

“Sorry. I know I shouldn’t be that blunt. But, yes. That’s what I meant.”

“Are you happy, Sarah? I mean really happy, despite all the changes?”

Now her smile is so bright it almost blinds me. “Yes, absolutely. I’ve found my mate and now I’m complete.”

**********

Sarah left me with a lot to think about. Somehow I’ve always taken it for granted that all omegas want to get bonded to an alpha so they have someone who takes care of them. I thought Mike might be the exception of this rule because of his upbringing. But that a well settled omega like Sarah was anxious about being matched puts things into a new perspective. I’ve never really questioned the roles society has dealt us since I’ve never encountered an omega who fought against their nature, but maybe I should read up on that a little. I’m sure Martin can recommend a few books.

While I work on the merger a little more, Mike is napping in his bed. At one point he begins to grimace a little and rubs his face against the pillow, but he remains sleeping.

I get up and carefully scratch his cheek until his blissed out expression tells me I’ve found the right spot. We definitely need to get rid of the restraints, at least when he’s under supervision. The poor guy can’t even scratch his own face.

When it’s getting dark, I ask a nurse for my camp bed and set it up next to his hospital bed. It’s a little lower but only by two inches so I can reach him without any problems.

When the two orderlies brought the camp bed in, Mike woke up but he still doesn’t speak to me although I greet him with a cheery, “Hey there, Sleepyhead.” Nope. No reaction whatsoever. Well, maybe if he has something to see he will open up a little.

I go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. And yeah, when I said I don’t own a pajama, I meant it. I often sleep naked or in my underwear but I think while I’m here I will wear some shorts and a t-shirt as well. This is a public place after all and staff is coming into this room at all times so being half naked might be not really appropriate. Plus, seduction is as much about fantasy as it is about reality. And I want him to fantasize about me a little.

When I come out again, I can see how he gazes at me from the corner of his eye. That’s right, baby. Look all you want. But I play it cool and pretend that I’m not aware he’s watching me.

I’m still pondering if I should give him some sort of show, you know, stretch myself a little so the t-shirt rides up a bit and reveals some of my abs, that sort of thing, but then there’s a knock on the door and Martin comes in.

“Hi, Harvey. Everything okay? I can see you’ve made yourself comfortable. Do you need anything else?”

“Thanks, Martin, but I’m all set. I wanted to read a bit to Mike before I turn off the lights so I thought I get ready for bed now.”

“Have you heard from Donna how her evening at the ballet was?”

From the look in his eyes I can see that he’s fallen hard for her. Really hard. And it looks as though he’s still not convinced that Louis isn’t a competition for him.

“She’s called earlier with some news from work. And she liked the ballet very much, especially since Jessica, my boss, joined them so she had someone else to talk to besides Louis.”

Predictably, Martin’s face lights up at that.

“Ah. That’s nice. Has she said when she will be in again?”

Now I really can’t contain my grin any longer. “When do you want me to ask her to come in?”

He grimaces like I’ve caught him at something untoward but then smiles. “I’m really obvious, aren’t I?”

“At least you’re honest. And knowing Donna, this approach might actually work. So, when are you on duty tomorrow?”

“I leave in a few hours and come back tomorrow at ten a.m.”

“Ten a.m. it is then.” I grab my phone and start to text Donna while Martin turns to Mike who has tried to ignore us so far. The key-word being _tried_ here because I for sure have caught his surreptitious glances. But while typing I’m listening to their conversation.

“Hi Mike. How’re you doing?” Martin wants to know.

“Good, I guess,” my omega replies hesitantly.

“Stomach okay?”

Now I stop typing and hold my breath a little.

“Yeah. And I’m actually a little hungry again.” I exhale covertly. Good. I was quite sure that Mike was doing okay but hearing it from him puts my mind at rest.

“That’s great. Let me see what I can do for you. Has the nurse explained why we need to continue with the tube-feeding?”

“Yes. She said that I wouldn’t be able to take in all the calories I need by eating normally. And she said that I’m too thin and need to put on some weight.”

Martin nods and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, that’s right. We try to get you back on solid food but we need to take it slow. In the meantime we supplement your diet with the tube-feeding. As soon as your stomach is back in working order, we will wean you off the tube but we need to monitor your weight, especially when we start with the physical therapy. I will ask one of our nutritionists to come see you and Harvey in the next days to explain everything in a little more detail. But for tonight, let’s get you some food. Harvey thought that maybe you would like something savory instead of something sweet? How about it?”

The kid seems surprised but then agrees readily and I try to hide my smile when he glances over to me. I’m happy that I was able to read him right, at least in that regard.

Martin leaves us for a moment but comes back almost immediately. When the smell of chicken soup wafts through the air, Mike’s face lights up.

“I’ve brought you some chicken broth with some vegetables and sliced up chicken in it.”

He hands the bowl to me and I sit down on my bed, ready to feed the kid while Martin keeps us company, taking the chair on Mike’s right side.

This time there is no scowling or haggling of any kind. He eagerly opens his mouth and I carefully deposit the first spoonful of the soup into it. The moan that escapes him is almost comically. Okay, he really likes the salty stuff better.

“Good?” I ask him with a smile and he grins happily back at me and nods. From the look on his face he can’t wait to get the next mouthful, so I comply. I still blow on every spoon to cool the soup down a bit since I don’t want him to burn his tongue. We find a rhythm and soon the bowl is half empty. It’s amazing how content Mike seems despite his restrained hands and this time I’m sure it’s not an act. Maybe he really starts to come to terms with this situation.

When I glance over to Martin to see if he notices Mike’s shift in attitude as well, I miss that the kid has turned his head slightly and at the last moment the spoon bumps against his cheek instead of going into his mouth. He winces when I spill the hot soup over his face and the hospital gown.

“Shit. I’m so sorry Mike. Did I burn you?” Just when I thought that we were finally getting on I mess everything up. I’m such an idiot. I hope he’s not hurt badly.

But then he suddenly gives me a reassuring smile although he has every reason to be pissed at me. After all, he relies on me to take care of him and I failed him by not giving him my full attention.

“No, it’s only warm and it was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have turned my head.”

He actually sounds like he wants to soothe me and I’m so relieved that he’s okay.

Martin has already fetched some wet-wipes and cleans Mike up with them but his hospital gown is a little soaked and needs to be changed.

The doc gets up but instead of leaving the room to fetch a new gown for Mike he waves me over to him.

“Do you have the t-shirt you wore today?” he asks me and I’m a little confused.

“Yes, why?”

“Because I thought he can wear it instead of a gown. Now that he’s a little more mobile we can start to put him in normal clothes and with your t-shirt he would be surrounded by your scent.”

Now I finally get what he’s up to and I hurry to take the t-shirt that I’ve worn under my button down shirt out of my bag. It’s reasonably clean although I would’ve put it in the washer after one day, especially since I haven’t used any deodorant today. But that’s kind of the point I guess.

I follow Martin back to Mike’s bed and together we change him out of the gown and into the shirt. We need to loosen the restraints for that but Mike makes no attempt to fight us in any way. In fact, he is remarkably compliant.

When it’s up to pulling the t-shirt down over Mike’s middle-region, I let Martin do it, still trying to give Mike as much privacy as I can. With him, baby steps will most likely do the trick.

Finally he’s changed and back in his restraints and I pick up the bowl again. I can feel that the soup is by now only lukewarm but before I can say anything, Mike shakes his head.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles and from the tone of his voice I can hear that it’s true.

“That’s okay. Today was a big day for you, Mike. Don’t worry. I will stay here with you.”

The look he gives me at that is a little peculiar, like he can’t really decide what to think about that, but hey, that’s okay. At least he doesn’t fight me outright anymore.

He closes his eyes and his face relaxes more and more. Suddenly he starts to sniff, like he has caught a scent he likes. Then he does it again and turns his head slightly to his side. When he raises his shoulder a little to get a better sniff at the t-shirt his face shifts into a happy smile and then he’s out like a light.

I look over at Martin and he grins back at me.

“Well, that worked better than expected.”

Before he leaves for the night he shows me how to tube-feed Mike. It doesn’t matter that he’s sleeping since the tube leads directly into his esophagus and he doesn’t need to swallow. I actually feel a little proud that I can at least do a little something to contribute to my omega’s care.

“Since you’re here we might put you to work as well,” Martin has stated when he asked me if I wanted to learn how to do it. “And it frees up some time for my nurses.”

This makes kind of sense but I think the real reason behind this is that he has noticed how helpless I sometimes feel when I have to stand back and let other people take care of Mike.

When I’m done with Mike’s food I fill the syringe halfway with lukewarm water to clean the tube so that the food doesn’t dry in there and clogs it up. I’m quite proud of myself when Martin pats me on my back before he leaves for good. 

Before I crawl into my bed a few minutes later, I press a kiss to Mike’s forehead. 

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you want you can drop me a line to let me know what you think. I'm always happy when I get a comment, and of course Kudos is also highly appreciated.


	14. Mike's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 of Mike's Story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter. One could even describe it as quicky. But I wanted to start the holidays with a little treat for Mike and my readers, so I hope you enjoy.

My mom sings to me that silly little song she used to sing when I was little. I know that this can’t be the reality. My mom died in a car crash eleven years ago. And yet here I am, sitting in her lap while she’s slowly rocking me back and forth in time with the song.

“ _Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are._ ”

I remember her voice so well, like it was only yesterday when she last sang that song to me. In the next line I chime in but my voice sounds odd; much higher than it’s now, a child’s voice.

“ _Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are._ ”

“Oh, Mikey, that was wonderful.” Her arms envelope me in a tight embrace and I burrow my face into her neck, breathing in her familiar, comforting scent, while her soft curls caress my face.

“Mom, I miss you so, so much.” I cling to her, afraid that she might suddenly disappear.

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you and protect you better.” Her hand strokes my hair and for the first time in god knows how long I feel totally safe and relaxed.

“Please don’t leave me, Mom. Stay with me.” Suddenly I realize that I’m crying and I don’t know why. I’m so happy to be with her again so why am I crying?

“You need to be my brave little boy, Mikey. Can you do that for me? Can you be brave for Mommy?”

And now I know why I’m crying. These were the last words she said to me before my father quite literally tore me out of her arms to drive me to my new school upstate.

“Yes, Mommy, I try.”

“That’s my good boy.”

Then she fades away and for a moment only darkness surrounds me but then another face swims into focus. It’s Martin Miller and he looks young again.

“Come in, Mike. Oh my god, you look like you haven’t eaten in days. What has happened to you?”

I remember that these were the words he said when he opened his door to me after I’d run away from the omega boarding school. I lie on his sofa, a warm blanket wrapped around me while he sits beside me on the floor so his face is at the same level as mine.

“You’re safe here, Mike. I promise I will keep you safe. Now sleep. We’ll figure things out tomorrow.”

And for the first time in days I feel at least a little bit safe again. Martin has allowed me to take a shower and given me one of his sweatshirts that comes down almost to my knees to keep me warm while my own soiled clothes are in the washer. He made a bed for me on his sofa and fed me sandwiches and hot cocoa and now he just sits with me until I fall asleep. His face blurs in front of me and merges into someone else’s. All of a sudden, warm golden-brown eyes gaze down on me and I feel this weight on my body pushing me down.

“Pretty omega…my pretty omega,” the by now so familiar voice whispers into my ear, but this time I don’t fight him. This time I relax while he holds me in his arms and his scent is surrounding me like a protective cloud. When he pushes his face against my neck and starts to lick over my bonding gland, I tilt my head back to give him better access while shivers of pleasure run through my body.

“You’re safe with me, baby.” His voice isn’t lust-crazed anymore. No, this time it sounds just like the time I tried to leave my bed and he and Martin pushed me down to keep me from harming myself. It sounds like a promise I can trust. Then I can feel the sharp prick of the needle in my arm and everything gets a little blurry. But he presses his forehead against mine and all I can see are his beautiful warm eyes.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’m here to keep you safe,” he whispers to me before everything goes black and this time I believe him. He will keep me safe. I can finally feel safe again.

From here on it is one memory after another I have of my…of Harvey. I’m aware that I’m dreaming, but it’s a nice dream so I don’t try to wake up. I dream about how he fed me the soup and how he tried to soothe my panic when I realized my secret had been discovered. How he held my hands when Martin took out the catheter and how his mouth looks when he smiles at me. He has such a nice smile. He smiles with his whole face, not only with his mouth and his eyes go all crinkly and sparkly when he smiles.

And I dream about the time he pushed his face against mine and whispered into my ear: “Busted, buddy.”

I hated it at the time but now, the second time around, I concentrate on how his closeness makes me feel. His warm, smooth cheek pressed against mine while his breath brushes against my ear. And I can remember his scent again. Deep down I know that this is only biology, pure and simple, but that doesn’t mean that I can fight the effect it has on me.

My dream jumps from scene to scene now, and in each and every one of them he’s the main feature. Once again I come back to the time when Martin took out the catheter but now his whole face fills my field of vision, his hands hold mine in a firm but gentle grip and he talks to me while I can feel my dick getting hard.

Like Martin said, this is only because of the mechanical manipulation, except it’s not. This time it’s because of him. Because he holds my hands and looks down at me with a smile while his eyes caress my face. This time I’m not embarrassed and I know it hasn’t happened this way but hey, it’s my dream so it can happen the way I want it to happen.

The hospital room and the heart monitor fade away along with the nurse and Martin. I’m lying in a broad bed, Harvey sitting beside me, holding my hands and then he bends down and nuzzles his face against my neck. I turn my head to give him better access and once again shivers of pleasure run through my body, all healed and well again, as he licks and kisses my skin.

Suddenly the scene changes slightly and I’m naked and stretched out on the bed while he lies on top of me, naked as well.

He’s so warm and his skin sliding over mine feels soft and smooth as silk. I can feel his erection grinding against me. It’s massive but I’m not scared. I smile proudly. This is my doing; this is because he wants me. My hips buck up in response to his arousal and he sneaks a hand between our heated bodies while he still kisses and licks my neck.

Then my cock is in his hand and he begins to jerk me slowly with just the right amount of pressure while his mouth has finally found its way to mine. He takes my breath away with his deep but playful kisses while his skilled hand continues to pleasure me and I can feel something beginning to pulse deep inside of my body. There’s this pressure inside my nether regions and suddenly a slick moisture is spilling out of my body, wetting the cleft between my buttocks and even moistening my thighs.

“You’re so beautiful, Mike. I will keep you safe. You will always be safe with me, baby.”

My limbs begin to tremble as I cling helplessly to him and although I haven’t experienced this in a long time, or ever really, I just know that my climax is imminent. Unable to resist, I begin to moan and then I say his name, over and over again like a mantra.

“Just let go, baby. I’ve got you. I love you, Mike. I love you so much.”

His hand tightens around my dick and my hips buck up into his grip. Then his other hand sneaks down to my butt and a finger trails through my slippery cleft. The next moment there’s this tiny pressure followed by this incredible surge of lust as it slips inside of me and my whole body begins to spasm with shocks of pleasure.

“Harvey!”

I must have shouted out his name for real because suddenly I’m awake, lying alone in my bed while my body still shivers with lust, my skin heated and sweaty and my heart pounding like I just did an express delivery on my bike.

I can feel my dick twitch lightly in time with my rapidly beating heart and a wet spot slowly grows on my stomach. When I shift a little on the mattress, unable to keep myself still, what with the aftershocks of my orgasm still holding me in its clutches, I can also feel some wetness underneath my butt, soaking slowly into the sheets.

Okay. Now I know why it’s called wet dream. I hadn’t know that there would be so much body-fluids involved.

“Mike?”

Oh shit. I’ve woken him up. What shall I do? What if he thinks that I want him to touch me? I don’t want that… or do I? His beautiful face is still fresh in my memory and I’m only slowly coming down from my high. I try to hold my breath to slow down my heartbeat but after only a few seconds I need to gulp in some air.

“Are you alright, Mike?” Now he sounds really worried and I know that I need to get a grip. After all, it was only a dream and this is the harsh reality.

I can hear him fumble around in the darkness. A small sliver of moonlight falls through a crack in the drapes, but maybe this is not enough for him. 

Oh no. Please don’t turn on the lights. And don’t get up. Please. He can’t see me like this. I can feel the heat spreading towards my face and a bead of sweat rolls down my right cheek so I pull my shoulder up to brush it away but my tied up hands prevent me from reaching it.

“I’m fine, Harvey,” I force myself to say and I’m sounding way calmer than I actually am. But then, I was always good under pressure. “I just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” I try to make my voice sound sleepy.

“You sure? Do you need something? Maybe some water. Or shall I hold your hand for a minute until you’ve gone back to sleep?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. M’ tired.” I yawn loudly and try to calm my breathing some more until it’s deep and even again. I can hear that he’s still alert, ready to spring into action but after a few more minutes of calm breathing I add a careful little snore and he finally lies back on his bed, his sheets rustling slightly as he shifts into a comfortable position. Suddenly I can feel his hand on mine and on pure instinct I curl my fingers around his. 

Now I lie there, with the cooling spot of my sperm wet on my stomach as I listen to him. Although I’m pretty uncomfortable I’m not willing to ask him or anybody for help to get cleaned up. And frankly, my mind is a little occupied with other stuff right now.

Damn. I just had my first real orgasm but instead of enjoying it I try to cling to the memories which get rapidly fuzzy. All I can still remember is, that this was the most enjoyable feeling I ever had in my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't beta-read and all mistakes regarding grammar, spelling or plot are my own. 
> 
> I wish you the best of holidays. Stay safe, stay healthy and stay positive. Things will get better. 
> 
> Lots of love to you all.


	15. Harvey's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 of Harvey's story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little on the short side. One could even call it a quicky (pun intended). But I wanted to treat the guys and my readers for the holidays. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as Harvey enjoyed it.

“Harvey!”

I’m immediately awake when I hear someone shout out my name. For a moment I’m a bit disoriented but then I remember where I am. I can hear Mike stirring in the bed next to mine and he’s breathing hard, like he had a nightmare or is otherwise in distress or something like that.

“Mike?” I say his name to remind him that I’m in the room with him. It wouldn’t do to just touch him and thus scare him even more when he might have forgotten that he’s not alone. But he doesn’t answer me. For a moment there’s silence but then it’s followed by more labored breathing and I’m not sure if he’s even awake or still asleep, caught up in this dream, or nightmare, he was having.

“Are you alright, Mike?” I ask a little louder this time.

I’m really worried now. Maybe he is in pain. From the way he’s still panting it’s a possibility. I sit up and reach out to the bedside table to turn the little lamp on that’s sitting there, but since I set up my bed next to Mike’s I had to push the table away and the switch for the lamp is slightly out of my reach from my vantage point.

“I’m fine, Harvey. I just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” Mike’s voice is sleep-rough but the undertone is off somehow. A little too casual, like he wants to hide something from me. I abandon the lamp and sit up straight so I can face him. Some moonlight filters through a crack of the window drapes and I can make out his face in the low light. He is biting his lips again and now I know that he’s hiding something from me. But what? And why? Maybe I can help him.

“You sure? Do you need something? Maybe some water. Or shall I hold your hand for a minute until you’ve gone back to sleep?” Maybe he just needs a little nudge to confide in me. Whatever it is, I’m here for him.

“Yeah, I’m sure. M’ tired.” He yawns loudly, but it’s more of a stage-yawn, like he wants to demonstrate that he is tired. But his breathing evens out a little and he shifts on the mattress to find a more comfortable position. He still has to sleep on his back because of his leg, and the restraints don’t allow for another sleeping position either. That must be really annoying, especially if he is a side sleeper like I am.

He shifts again and suddenly a familiar but yet new and exciting scent hits my nose like a ton of bricks.

It’s his scent alright, but it’s different from before. I’m not quite sure what this new scent means. Until I inhale deeply through my nose while I shift on my mattress to get a little closer to him. He smells like himself, but more intense and somehow warmer, richer. There’s also some underlying tone of musk and sweat in that smell and I can feel how this affects me.

I’m getting hard in my sweat shorts when his scent of arousal, yeah, I’m sure it’s arousal, wafts more and more over to me until I’m surrounded by it in a delicious, torturous cloud. God, he smells so good and I want to reach over to him and touch his skin, caress his body, but I don’t. Instead, I revisit our little conversation and his tone of voice, while I still watch his face in the weak, silver moonlight.

When he cried out my name, I thought he was scared, but maybe it was arousal. Maybe he called out my name because he wanted me.

Now that I come to think of it, I’m quite sure that he had been still sleeping when he shouted out for me, so his dream must’ve been about me – about us. And from the way he’s smelling now it must’ve been a good dream. And he was panting hard when he woke me up. Like he had been running or exhausting himself in some way, or like he just had an orgasm. Could that be? But his scent is so intense right now and an orgasm might explain it.

Suddenly he snores a little and this time I can’t tell if it’s fake or not. Maybe the unexpected action of his body has exhausted him. I still watch him but his eyes are closed, his features relaxed and his breathing even.

I, on the other hand, am totally awake now. There’s no way I can go back to sleep. I’m not touching myself but Mike’s scent is enough for my dick to swell into full hardness.

I try to imagine what Mike has been dreaming about and I really hope he enjoyed the dream. Then I become aware that if he has indeed orgasmed when he cried out my name, he has his own come on his stomach, wetting his skin and now slowly drying there. Okay, that would certainly explain the intensity of his scent.

I reach out with my hand and lift his blanket a little and I nearly moan out loud when the delicious aroma of his spent seed hits my senses. Hastily I let go of the fabric since this is sweet torture. Instead I search for his hand and I can’t help smiling when his fingers close around mine.

I just lie there for the next minutes, or hours, and think about what this all means. Maybe he has dreamed of me because he was surrounded by my scent on the t-shirt. That would be a great sign that at least his body is responding accordingly to me. And I get why he tried to hide this from me. He’s fighting so hard for his independence and having his body suddenly react this way to a stranger must be a little scary.

I remember what Martin has said at our first meeting back in his office about Mike’s low libido due to the suppressants. He had said that he wasn’t even sure if Mike ever had some sort of a sexual encounter. So this must be new to the kid. New and very confusing. No wonder he was a little embarrassed and wanted to hide it from me. And that he is restrained and absolutely at my mercy is another thing I need to factor in into this equation.

As hard as it is, I decide to respect his wish. If he wants to let me know how he’s feeling, that’s great, but if he needs a little bit more time to come to grips with all the changes, then I can wait. In my job sometimes patience is a virtue and if I want, or if it’s wort it, I can be a very patient, if not virtuous, man.

Well, for one thing, though. My boner is still up and since his smell is still surrounding me, this won’t change anytime soon. And I can’t touch myself and jerk off while he’s sleeping next to me. Somehow, this seems very wrong to me. Like I would take advantage of him.

So I get up and quietly make my way to the little bathroom. It’s completely dark in there since it has no window but there’s this little lamp build into the mirror of the vanity. I blink a few times until my eyes have adjusted to the light.

When I look into the mirror I can see that my eyes are a little lighter in color than they usually are. This happens every time I’m aroused. Scottie once said that they go from coffee with only a dash of milk to golden whisky. It sounded a little too poetic for my taste when she said it but now I can see that she was right. There’s definitely something golden glinting in my iris.

Okay, that is getting weird now. Instead of studying my own eyes in the mirror I come to the task at hand so to speak.

Cold shower or hand job - that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the cruel coldness of the water or to take arms – a hand - against a sea of arousal, and by opposing, end it. To jerk or not to jerk?

Oh god. My mind at 3 a.m. is just weird. Instead of butchering Shakespeare any further I push my sweat shorts down until they hang below my butt, spit in my hand since I haven’t any lube at hand (somehow Donna has neglected to pack any) and begin to jerk my achingly hard cock in long strokes. I can’t watch myself in the mirror while doing it (even I am not that narcissistic) so I close my eyes and try to remember Mike’s voice when he called out my name.

As soon as I conjure up his face before my inner eye, his scent of arousal is also back in my memory and I moan quietly. Then I press my lips shut so I don’t accidentally call out his name. I mean, normally I’m all for quit pro quo but I don’t want to wake him when he needs all the sleep he can get.

My fingers curl around my hard shaft with perfect pressure and my hips start to move on their own accord while my left hand holds on to the basin with a death grip. I hope it’s sturdy enough so I don’t yank it out of the wall by accident. That might be a little hard to explain.

I imagine him lying there with a spot of his own sperm slowly drying on his stomach. Poor thing. If we were home and I had just made him come like this, I would lick him clean so as not to waste anything of him.

I try to imagine how he would taste. His skin tastes to me like dark chocolate with a hint of sea-salt and I guess his seed would only add to the saltiness a little but that’s okay. I’m sure he tastes delicious and I imagine trailing my lips and my tongue all over his body, caressing and tasting every last inch of him.

I tease the seam of my cockhead a little before I swipe my thumb over the wet, sensitive crown. I place a fingertip right over the slit and draw tiny circles on it, imagining it is his tongue instead of my fingertip, and I can feel how my balls draw up and then start to pulse. Oh god, I’m so close.

I let go of the basin and form a tight circle with the fingers of my left hand around my knot, while the thumb of my right hand still teases the cockhead in slow circles.

I imagine him lying on his stomach, his hips propped up by a pillow, his sweet little ass right in front of my nose. I savor the picture for a moment before I fantasize about parting his ass-cheeks with my thumbs and licking over his virginal little hole until it starts clenching and opening up, bringing forth his natural lubricant. I can almost taste his slick and hear his moan and this finally pushes me over the edge. I jack myself frantically, breathing trough my nose like a freight train and the first spurt of my sperm hits the tiles just below the vanity cabinet. Through all of this my left hand presses down on my knot to simulate being inside of his tight, clenching hole.

I can’t wait until I can finally be with him for real. I know, I just know that he will love it as much as I will.

Slowly I’m coming down from my orgasm and when I let go of my knot, my dick softens slowly without the pressure. I’m a little sensitive now, since I didn’t have any lube to make things a little slicker and my spit wasn’t enough to ease the friction. 

I avoid my reflection in the mirror when I open my eyes. Instead, I snatch up a washcloth and clean my dick and my hands before I wipe it over the tiles of the backsplash. They’re a dark grey and the white streaks of my sperm would make an interesting pattern for the cleaning staff tomorrow.

Before I leave the bathroom, I splash some water on my face and then rinse my mouth. Hopefully now I can back to sleep.

As soon as I open the door, his scent is back in my nose but now, with my tension released, I can handle it a little better. In the darkness I fumble my way back to my bed and shift on the mattress until I find a comfortable position. Then I search for his hand and once again his fingers curl around mine as soon as I touch them.

“Good night, baby. Hot dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't beta-read and all mistakes, be it grammar or spelling or the plot itself, are my own. 
> 
> I hope you guys have a wonderful holiday. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy, stay positive. 
> 
> I send you lots of love and positive thoughts.


End file.
